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ODDITIES   IN    SOUTHERN    LIFE 

AND   CHARACTER 


EDITED   BY 


HENRY  WATTERSON 


WITH  ILLUSTRA  TIONS 

BY 

W.  L.  SHEPPARD  AND   F.  S.  CHURCH 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    1882,   BY   HOUGHTON,    MIFFLIN   &   CO. 
COPYRIGHT,    19IO,   BY   HENRY  WATTERSON 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


n 


To 

MY   FRIEND, 

WALTER  N.  HALDEMAN, 

\  REPRESENTATIVE   OF   THE    BUSINESS    PROGRESS,  NO   LESS  THAK  0» 
THE  NEWSPAPER   DEVELOPMENT 

OF 

THE   SOtJtH, 
ff^fs  Comptlatton  of  Soutfjern  CfiaractertstiW 

IS    CORDIALLY    INSCRIBED 
BY 

THE  EDITOR 


PREFACE, 


A  CYNIC  tells  us  that  jokes,  like  women,  rarely 
grow  better  as  they  grow  older.  Yet  we  are  assured 
that  our  best  stories  are  as  old  as  the  hills,  —  come 
down  to  us  from  generation  to  generation,  time  out 
of  mind.  I  take  leave  to  deny  both  these  assump- 
tions. The  comic  situations  in  which  we  may  find 
ourselves  have  indeed  a  limit  set  upon  them.  But 
humor,  ever-changing  and  many-sided,  is  an  exhaust- 
less  source  of  inspiration,  adapting  itself  to  prevail- 
ing conditions  of  life  with  surprising  freshness  and 
vitality. 

There  is  little  in  common  between  the  comedy  of 
the  French  and  that  of  the  English ;  that  of  the 
Spaniard  is  equally  remote  in  its  relationship  to 
either,  if  it  possesses  any  claim  to  relationship  at 
all  ;  whilst  nothing  can  stick  closer  to  the  manner 
born  than  the  grim,  fantastic  farce  of  the  Asiatic. 
The  best  repartee  in  the  world  is  Irish  ;  but  we  do 
not  need  the  brogue  to  identify  it.  Translated  into 
idiomatic  English,  its  examples  identify  themselves. 
The  same  may  be  said  of  the  Scotch.  In  America, 
the  congregation  of  many  nationalities,  together  with 
the  exceptional  and  novel  character  of  our  political 


Vi  PREFACE. 

and  domestic  fabric,  has  given  birth  to  a  humor  of 
singular  quaintness  and  variety,  and  although  for 
the  most  part  of  a  low  order,  yet  essentially  repre- 
sentative and  picturesque.  I  do  not  refer  so  much 
to  our  written  as  to  our  colloquial  humor.  Our  lit- 
erature is  full  of  imitation  ;  our  anecdotes  are  our 
own,  the  outgivings  of  a  nature,  habit  of  thought, 
and  mode  of  existence  whimsically  real.  We  are 
not  a  romantic  people,  like  the  English  ;  not  a  witty 
people,  like  the  French.  Our  tragedies  are  wont  to 
make  men  laugh ;  so  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we 
are  funny  in  spite  of  ourselves.  The  New  England 
grocer,  who,  being  assured  by  his  apprentice  that  he 
had  sanded  the  sugar  and  watered  the  milk,  straight- 
way called  the  lad  to  prayers,  had  as  Httle  notion 
of  joking  as  the  Kentuckian,  who,  receiving  sev- 
eral established  signs  from  his  partner  at  a  game 
of  whist,  at  last  broke  out  piteously,  "■  How  kin  I 
play  the  ace  when  I  haint  it  .<* "  Yet  the  two  stories 
are  illustrative.  They  are  types  of  separate  phases 
of  American  life,  and  of  the  humor  which  flows 
from  that  life.  They  could  not  flow  from  any  other 
life.  How  different  in  character  the  reply  of  the 
French  girl  at  the  cattle  show  to  her  lover's  query 
whether  she  was  fond  of  brutes  !  "  Am  I  to  con- 
sider that  a  declaration  ? "  said  she.  Or  John 
Wilkes's  famous  retort  upon  Thurlow's  bombast  that 
when  he  forgot  his  king  he  hoped  his  God  might 
forget  him  !  "  Forget  you  !  "  said  Wilkes,  in  a  stage 
whisper.    "  He  '11  see  you  damned  first." 


PREFACE.  Vir 

In  the  United  States,  particularly  in  the  Southern 
States,  such  quiddities  are  rarely  heard ;  the  wit  is 
coarser,  whilst,  as  a  rule,  the  humor  turns  upon 
character  and  incident.  We  body  forth  a  person- 
age out  of  the  odds  and  ends  of  comic  thought  and 
memory,  the  heel-taps  of  current  observance  ;  we 
clothe  this  image  appropriately,  and  then  we  put  it 
through  a  series  of  amusing  adventure.  Thus  it  is 
that  our  humor  is  anecdotal,  producing  such  figures 
as  Sut  Luvingood  ;  Bill  Arp;  Major  Joseph  Jones,  of 
Pineville,  Ga.  ;  the  Rev.  Hezekiah  Bradley,  who  dis- 
coursed upon  the  Harp  of  a  Thousand  Strings  ; 
and  last,  but  not  least,  Captain  Simon  Suggs,  of  the 
Tallapoosa  Volunteers.  They  flourished  years  ago, 
in  the  good  old  time  of  muster  da^s  and  quarter- 
racing,  before  the  camp-meeting  and  the  barbecue 
had  lost  their  power  and  their  charm  ;  when  men 
led  simple,  homely  lives,  doing  their  love-making 
and  their  law-making  as  they  did  their  fighting  and 
their  plowing,  in  a  straight  furrow ;  when  there  vv^as 
no  national  debt  multiplying  the  dangers  and  mag- 
nifying the  expenses  of  distillation  in  the  hills  and 
hollows,  and  pouring  in  upon  the  log-rolling,  the 
quilting,  the  corn-shucking,  and  the  fish-fry  an  in- 
quisitorial crew  of  tax-gatherers  and  detectives  to 
spoil  the  sport  and  dull  the  edge  of  patriotic  hus- 
bandry. 

The  joking  which  takes  its  rise  from  such  sources 
must  needs  be  rough.  In  presenting  it  in  the  fol- 
lowing pages  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  make  much 


Vlll  FRErACE. 

boast  of  its  quality,  but  to  offer  it  as  in  some  sort 
a  picture  of  a  day  that  is  gone,  of  a  race  which  has 
passed  into  history,  of  a  region  whose  swamps  and 
ridges,  mountain  passes  and  vast  cotton  lands,  — 
given  over  for  a  century  to  song  and  dance  and  sun- 
burnt mirth,  —  constituted  a  inise  en  scene  for  the 
strangest  domestic  melodrama  of  modern  times. 

In  a  word,  I  do  not  propose  here  an  encyclopaedia 
of  Southern  wit  and  humor,  but  a  series  of  charac- 
teristic pictures,  taken  from  the  most  graphic  chron- 
iclers of  the  nether  side  of  Southern  life  ;  and, 
whilst  my  illustrations  of  the  oddities  and  realities 
of  this  life  may  be  conspicuous  for  their  omissions, 
I  do  not  think  they  will  be  found  to  lack  the  essen- 
tial elements  of  fidelity  and  humor. 

In  the  famous  speech  of  Mr.  Knott,  in  "  Texas 
Siftings,"  and  in  the  paragraphs  of  the  late  Mr. 
Hatcher,  a  marked  change,  traceable  to  the  Pren- 
ticean  influence,  is  seen  ;  whilst  in  the  more  elabo- 
rate stories  of  the  author  of  **  Dukesborough  Tales," 
and  in  the  delicious  fables  of  "  Uncle  Remus,"  we 
discover  not  merely  marked  progress  in  literary 
handicraft,  but  a  total  absence  of  the  merely  local 
tone  which  abounds  in  the  writing  of  Longstreet, 
Harris,  Thompson,  and  Hooper. 

The  volume  is  given  to  the  public  simply  as  an 
illustration,  and  by  no  means  as  a  compendium. 
The  editor  would  be  glad  if  it  should  prove  a  con- 
tribution, however  slight,  to  the  good  humor  of  the 
period,  and,  in  this  character  and  by  this  token,  to 


PREFACE.  IX 

a  better  understanding  among  classes  of  people 
hitherto  kept  asunder  by  misconceptions  and  preju- 
dices the  most  whimsical.  He  has,  in  its  prepara- 
tion, confined  himself  to  the  editorial  duty  of  selec- 
tion, with  such  revision  only  as  seemed  indispensable 
to  a  clean  and  condensed  illustration  of  the  subjects 
treated  ;  the  purpose  of  his  publishers  being  to  place 
before  the  public,  in  a  form  at  once  convenient  and 
neat,  a  few  examples  of  the  fast-fading  oddities  of 
Southern  life  to  be  found  in  the  almost   obsolete 

literature  of  the  slave  era. 

H.  W. 

Courier-Journal  Office, 
Louisville,  September  15,  1882. 


CONTENTS. 


Georgia  Scenes       

I.  Georgia  Theatricals 

"11.   The  Fight 

^  III.   The  Horse-Swap 

IV.   The  Militia  Drill * 

Simon  Suggs  

I.  Simon  starts  in  the  World 

-  II.    The  Captain  attends  a  Camp-meeting 

[II.    Simon  is  arraigned  before  "  a  Jury  of  his  Country  "    . 
IV.    Simon  "  Fights  the  Tiger '' 

Flush  Times     .        .        •        • 

I.  How  the  Times  served  the  Virginians.  —  Virginians  in 
a  New  Country.— The  Rise,  Decline,  and  Fall  of 
the  Rag  Empire 

II.  Assault  and  Battery  .... 
III.    Sharp  Financiering       .... 

Major  Jones's  Courtship    .        .        •        • 

I,  The  Major  takes  a  Chew  of  Tobacco  * 

II.  The  Major  has  a  Misadventure 

III.  A  Georgia  Coon  Hunt  .... 

IV.  The  Major  has  a  Rival      . 
V.   And  what  came  of  it     . 

VI.  A  Reconciliation        .... 

VII.  The  Major  moves  up  to  the  Front 

VIII.  The  Major  pops  the  Question   . 

IX.  The  Wedding 

Major  Jones's  Travels 

I.  Major  Jones  takes  a  Peep  at  the  Government 

II.  The  Monumental  City       ...» 


PACK 
I 

2 

5 

20 
30 

39 
40 

55 
69 
76 
92 


92 
124 

131 

134 

■  135 
141 

.  146 

153 

.  157 

162 

.  167 
169 

.  175 
180 

.  183 

193 


Xii  CONTENTS. 

III.  The  Major's  Adventures  in  Baltimore         .        .        .  201 

IV.  Further  Adventures  in  Baltimore      ....  212 

V.  The  Quaker  City 222 

VI.   The  Major's  Adventures  in  Gotham         .        ,        .  232 

Davy  Crocketi' 245 

I.   A  Useful  Coon  Skin 246 

II.    En  Route  for  Texas 251 

III.    The  Game  of  Thimblerig 255 

J.  Proctor  Knott    .      ' 265 

Duluth  Speech 266 

Bill  Arp 285 

I.    Bill  Arp  on  Litigation 286 

II.   A  Few  of  Mr.  Arp's  Reflections 291 

Uncle  Remus 304 

I.   Uncle  Remus  initiates  the  Little  Boy         .        ,        .  305 

II.    The  Wonderful  Tar-Baby  Story        ....  308 

III.  How  Mr.  Rabbit  was  too  sharp  for  Mr.  Fox        .        .310 

IV.  Mr.  Rabbit  grossly  deceives  Mr.  Fox        .        .        .  313 
V.    Mr.  Fox  is  again  victimized         .         .        .         .         •317 

VI.   Songs  of  Uncle  Remus 321 

Dukesborough  Tales 329 

I.   How  Mr.  Bill  took  the  Responsibility      .        .        .  330 

II.   The  Pursuit  of  Mr.  Adiel  Slack 362 

SUT  LOVINGOOD 415 

I.    How  Daddy  played  Hoss 415 

II.   The  "Biled  Shut" 424 

III.   Parson  Bullen's  Lizards 430 

George  W.  Bagby 439 

How  "  Ruby  "  played 439 

The  Newspaper  Wits 446 

I.   George  D.  Prentice 446 

II.   John  E.  Hatcher 450 

III.  Texas  Siftings 457 

IV.  Albert  Roberts 466 

A  Trio  of  Old  Oddities        .        .        .        •      g.        .        •  474 

I.    Cousin  Sally  Dilliard                 474 

II.    Guilty  — but  Drunk 478 

III.   "  The  Harp  of  a  Thousand  Strings  "...  482 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

— ♦— 

PAGE 

"  He  was  dressed  with  care  " Frontispiece 

"  With  a  loud  yell,  Bill  plunged  forward  "  .        .        .        .        '43 

"  Take  TWENTY  !"  said  the  Captain 91 

"  A  1-e-e-t-l-e  further  forward  "    .. 144 

"  Oh,  no,  not  much.     It  ain't  z/^rj/ bad  "  .         .         .         .         166 

"  Sum  more  beef,"  ses  I 211 

"  You  look  sorter  stuck  up  dis  mawnin'  "        .         .        .         .         310 
"  The  tarifick  shape  ove  his  feeters  " 434 


ODDITIES 


IN 


SOUTHERN    LIFE   AND    CHARACTER. 


GEORGIA   SCENES. 


Judge  Longstreet,  the  author  of  "Georgia  Scenes,"  was  first 
among  the  writers  of  the  South  to  seize  the  comic  aspects  of  South- 
ern life,  and  turn  them  to  shape,  and  to  give  them  a  local  habitation 
and  a  name.  The  volume  entitled  "  Georgia  Scenes  :  Characters, 
Incidents,  etc.,  in  the  First  Half  Centur}^  of  the  Republic,  by  a  Native 
Georgian,"  was  published  by  the  Harpers  in  1840 ;  but  the  sketches 
of  which  it  was  composed  had  appeared  in  various  magazines  and 
newspapers  prior  to  that  date.  The  book  had  a  great  run,  then  went 
•■>ut  of  print,  and  finally,  as  4ate  as  1875,  was  reissued,  "in  compli- 
ance," as  the  publishers  state,  "with  the  urgent  demands  of  the 
booksellers."  Judge  Longstreet  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  re- 
vise this  latest  edition,  or  to  take  any  interest  in  it.  He  had  long  been 
a  preacher  and  college  president,  and  seemed  to  be  a  little  ashamed 
of  his  early  dallyings  with  the  merry  Muse  of  comedy. 

The  Hon.  Augustus  Baldwin  Longstreet  was  born  the  22d  of 
September,  1800.  He  always  claimed  South  Carolina  as  his  birth- 
place, and  was  doubtless  a  native  of  this  State,  although  Georgia  is 
set  down  in  the  encyclopaedias  as  the  place  of  his  nativity.  Be  this 
as  it  may,  he  lived  in,  and  was  honored  by,  both  South  Carolina  and 
Georgia,  ending  his  days  at  an  advanced  age  in  Mississippi.  After 
graduating  at  Yale  in  1823,  he  studied  law  and  began  practice  at 
Litchfield,  Conn.,  but  soon  after  returned  to  South  Carolina,  where 
he  was  successful,  rising  to  the  dignity  of  a  judge  of  the  Superior 
Court.  He  abjured  politics  and  law,  however,  became  a  divine,  and 
passed  the  remaining  years  of  his  life  as  president  of  the  universities, 

1 


2  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

alternately,  of  South  Carolina  and  Mississippi.  He  was  respected, 
wherever  he  was  known,  as  a  very  able  as  well  as  a  very  scholarly 
man. 

"  Georgia  Scenes  "  are  the  simplest  transcription  of  the  humorous 
phases  of  the  life  and  character  of  the  period  embraced  by  them,  done 
in  charcoal,  without  effort  and  without  pretense,  and  are  worthy  of 
preservation  because  of  their  fidelity  to  nature  and  the  truthfulness 
of  detail  which  marks  them.  The  four  sketches  which  I  have  se- 
lected give  a  fair  idea  of  the  whole,  eighteen  in  number,  which  make 
up  the  original  volume. 


I. 

GEORGIA   THEATRICALS. 

If  my  memory  fail  me  not,  the  loth  of  June,  1809, 
found  me,  at  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon, 
ascending  a  long  and  gentle  slope  in  what  was  called 
"  the  Dark  Corner  "  of  Lincoln.  I  believe  it  took  its 
name  from  the  moral  darkness  which  reigned  over 
that  portion  of  the  county  at  the  time  of  which  I 
am  speaking.  If,  in  this  point  of  view,  it  was  but  a 
shade  darker  than  the  rest  of  the  county,  it  was  in- 
conceivably dark.  If  any  man  can  name  a  trick  of  sin 
which  had  not  been  committed  at  the  time  of  which 
I  am  speaking,  in  the  very  focus  of  the  county's 
illumination  (Lincolnton),  he  must  himself  be  the 
most  inventive  of  the  tricky,  and  the  very  Judas  of 
sinners.  Since  that  time,  however  (all  humor  aside), 
Lincoln  has  become  a  living  proof  "  that  light  shin- 
eth  in  darkness."  Could  I  venture  to  mingle  the 
solemn  with  the  ludicrous,  even  for  the  purposes  of 
honorable  contrast,  I  could  adduce  from  this  county 
instances  of  the  most  numerous  and  wonderful  tran- 
sitions from  vice  and  folly  to  virtue  and  holiness 
which  have  ever,  perhaps,  been  witnessed  since  the 
days  of  the  apostolic  ministry.     So  much,  lest  it 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  3 

should  be  thought  by  some  that  what  I  am  about  to 
relate  was  characteristic  of  the  county  in  which  it 
occurred. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  moral  condition  of 
the  Dark  Corner  at  the  time  just  mentioned,  its 
fiatiiral  condition  was  anything  but  dark.  It  smiled 
in  all  the  charms  of  spring  ;  and  spring  borrowed  a 
new  charm  from  its  undulating  grounds,  its  luxuri- 
ant woodlands,  its  sportive  streams,  its  vocal  birds, 
and  its  blushing  flowers. 

Rapt  with  the  enchantment  of  the  season  and  the 
scenery  around  me,  I  was  slowly  rising  the  slope, 
when  I  was  startled  by  loud,  profane,  and  boisterous 
voices,  which  seemed  to  proceed  from  a  thick  covert 
of  undergrowth  about  two  hundred  yards  in  advance 
of  me,  and  about  one  hundred  to  the  right  of  my 
road. 

"  You  kin  —  kin  you  }  " 

"  Yes,  I  kin,  and  I  'm  able  to  do  it !  Boo-oo-oo  ! 
Oh  wake  snakes  and  walk  your  chalks  !  Brimstone 
and  fire  !  Don't  hold  me,  Nick  Stoval !  The  fight 's 
made  up,  and  let 's  go  to  it.  My  soul,  if  I  don't  jump 
down  his  throat,  and  gallop  every  chitterhng  out  of 
him  before  you  can  say  'quit '  !  " 

'•  Now,  Nick,  don't  hold  him  !  Jist  let  the  wild-cat 
come,  and  I  '11  tame  him.  Ned  '11  see  me  a  fair  fight ; 
won't  you,  Ned  t  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  '11  see  you  a  fair  fight,  blast  my  old 
shoes  if  I  don't !  " 

"  That 's  sufficient,  as  Tom  Haynes  said  when  he 
saw  the  elephant.     Now  let  him  come." 

Thus  they  went  on,  with  countless  oaths  inter- 
spersed, which  I  dare  not  even  hint  at,  and  with 
much  that  I  could  not  distinctly  hear. 


4  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN   LIFE. 

In  mercy's  name,  thought  I,  what  band  of  ruffians 
has  selected  this  holy  season  and  this  heavenly  re- 
treat for  such  Pandemonium  riots  ?  I  quickened  my 
gait,  and  had  come  nearly  opposite  to  the  thick  grove 
whence  the  noise  proceeded,  when  my  eye  caught 
at  intervals,  through  the  foliage  of  the  dwarf  oaks 
and  hickories  which  intervened,  glimpses  of  a  man 
or  men,  who  seemed  to  be  in  a  violent  struggle  ; 
and  I  could  occasionally  catch  those  deep-drawn, 
emphatic  oaths  which  men  in  conflict  utter  when 
they  deal  blows.  I  dismounted,  and  hurried  to  the 
spot  with  all  speed.  I  had  overcome  about  half  the 
space  which  separated  it  from  me,  when  I  saw  the 
combatants  come  to  the  ground,  and  after  a  short 
struggle  I  saw  the  uppermost  one  (for  I  could  not 
see  the  other)  make  a  heavy  plunge  with  both  his 
thumbs,  and  at  the  same  instant  heard  a  cry  in  the 
accent  of  keenest  torture,  "  Nuff !      My  eye  's  out !  " 

I  was  so  completely  horror-struck  that  I  stood 
transfixed  for  a  moment  to  the  spot  where  the  cry 
met  me.  The  accomplices  in  the  hellish  deed  which 
had  been  perpetrated  had  all  fled  at  my  approach  ; 
at  least  I  supposed  so,  for  they  were  not  to  be  seen. 

"Now,  blast  your  corn-shucking  soul,"  said  the 
victor  (a  youth  about  eighteen  years  old)  as  he  rose 
from  the  ground,  *'  come  cutt'n  your  shines  'bout 
me  agin,  next  time  I  come  to  the  Courthouse,  will 
you !     Get  your  owl-eye  in  agin,  if  you  can  !  " 

At  this  moment  he  saw  me  for  the  first  time.  He 
looked  excessively  embarrassed,  and  was  moving  off, 
when  I  called  to  him,  in  a  tone  emboldened  by  the 
sacredness  of  my  office  and  the  iniquity  of  his  crime, 
*'  Come  back,  you  brute,  and  assist  me  in  reliev- 
ing your  fellow-mortal,  whom  you  have  ruined  for- 
ever !  " 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  5 

My  rudeness  subdued  his  embarrassment  in  an 
instant ;  and,  with  a  taunting  curl  of  the  nose,  he 
repHed,  "You  needn't  kick  before  you're  spurr'd. 
There  ain't  nobody  there,  nor  hain't  been,  nother.  I 
was  jist  seein'  how  I  could  'a' /<??//."  So  saying,  he 
bounded  to  his  plow,  which  stood  in  the  corner  of 
the  fence,  about  fifty  yards  beyond  the  battle-ground. 

And  would  you  believe  it,  gentle  reader,  his  re- 
port was  true  !  All  that  I  had  heard  and  seen  was 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  Lincoln  rehearsal,  in 
which  the  youth  who  had  just  left  me  had  played  all 
the  parts  of  all  the  characters  in  a  Courthouse  fight. 

I  went  to  the  ground  from  which  he  had  risen, 
and  there  were  the  prints  of  his  two  thumbs,  plunged 
up  to  the  balls  in  the  mellow  earth,  about  the  dis- 
tance of  a  man's  eyes  apart ;  and  the  ground  around 
was  broken  up  as  if  two  stags  had  been  engaged 
upon  it. 


II. 


THE    FIGHT. 

In  the  younger  days  of  the  republic  there  lived 

in  the  county  of two  men,  who  were  admitted 

on  all  hands  to  be  the  very  best  7nen  in  the  county  ; 
which,  in  the  Georgia  vocabulary,  means  they  could 
flog  any  other  two  men  in  the  county.  Each,  through 
many  a  hard-fought  battle,  had  acquired  the  mastery 
of  his  own  battalion  ;  but  they  lived  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  Courthouse,  and  in  different  battalions  : 
consequently,  they  were  but  seldom  thrown  together. 
When  they  met,  however,  they  were  always  very 
friendly  ;  indeed,  at  their  first  inteview,  they  seemed 
to  conceive  a  wonderful  attachment  to  each  other, 


6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

which  rather  increased  than  diminished  as  they  be- 
came better  acquainted  ;  so  that,  but  for  the  circum- 
stance which  I  am  about  to  mention,  the  question 
which  had  been  a  thousand  times  asked,  "  Which 
is  the  best  man,  Billy  Stallions  [Stallings]  or  Bob 
Durham  ? "  would  probably  never  have  been  an- 
swered. 

Billy  ruled  the  upper  battalion,  and  Bob  the  lower. 
The  former  measured  six  feet  and  an  inch  in  his 
stockings,  and,  without  a  single  pound  of  cumbrous 
flesh  about  him,  weighed  a  hundred  and  eighty.  The 
latter  was  an  inch  shorter  than  his  rival,  and  ten 
pounds  lighter  ;  but  he  was  much  the  most  active 
of  the  two.  In  running  and  jumping  he  had  but  few 
equals  in  the  county,  and  in  wrestling  not  one.  In 
other  respects  they  were  nearly  equal.  Both  were 
admirable  specimens  of  human  nature  in  its  finest 
form.  Billy's  victories  had  generally  been  achieved 
by  the  tremendous  power  of  his  blows,  one  of  which 
had  often  proved  decisive  of  his  battles  ;  Bob's,  by 
his  adroitness  in  bringing  his  adversary  to  the 
ground.  This  advantage  he  had  never  failed  to  gain 
at  the  onset,  and,  when  gained  he  never  failed  to  im- 
prove it  to  the  defeat  of  his  adversary.  These  points 
of  difference  have  involved  the  reader  in  a  doubt  as 
to  the  probable  issue  of  a  contest  between  them. 
It  was  not  so,  however,  with  the  two  battalions. 
Neither  had  the  least  difficulty  in  determining  the 
point  by  the  most  natural  and  irresistible  deductions 
a  priori  ;  and  though  by  the  same  course  of  reason- 
ing they  arrived  at  directly  opposite  conclusions, 
neither  felt  its  confidence  in  the  least  shaken  by 
this  circumstance.  The  upper  battalion  swore  "  that 
Billy  only  wanted  one  lick  at  him  to  knock  his  heart, 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  y 

liver,  and  lights  out  of  him,  and  if  he  got  two  at  him 
he  'd  knock  him  into  a  cocked  hat."  The  lower  bat- 
talion retorted  "  that  he  would  n't  have  time  to 
double  his  fist  before  Bob  would  put  his  head  where 
his  feet  ought  to  be  ;  and  that,  by  the  time  he  hit 
the  ground,  the  meat  would  fly  off  his  face  so  quick 
that  people  would  think  it  was  shook  off  by  the  fall." 
These  disputes  often  led  to  the  argiLinentimi  adhorn- 
ineni,  but  with  such  equality  of  success  on  both 
sides  as  to  leave  the  main  question  just  where  they 
found  it.  They  usually  ended,  however,  in  the  com- 
mon way,  with  a  bet  ;  and  many  a  quart  of  old  Ja- 
maica (whisky  had  not  then  supplanted  rum)  were 
staked  upon  the  issue.  Still,  greatly  to  the  annoy- 
ance of  the  curious,  Billy  and  Bob  continued  to  be 
good  friends. 

Now  there  happened  to  reside  in  the  county  just 
alluded  to  a  little  fellow  by  the  name  of  Ransy  Snif- 
fle :  a  sprout  of  Richmond,  who,  in  his  earlier  days, 
had  fed  copiously  upon  red  clay  and  blackberries. 
This  diet  had  given  to  Ransy  a  complexion  that  a 
corpse  would  have  disdained  to  own,  and  an  abdom- 
inal rotundity  that  was  quite  unprepossessing.  Long 
spells  of  the  fever  and  ague,  too,  in  Ransy's  youth, 
had  conspired  with  clay  and  blackberries  to  throw 
him  quite  out  of  the  order  of  nature.  His  shoulders 
were  fleshless  and  elevated ;  his  head  large  and  flat ; 
his  neck  slim  and  translucent ;  and  his  arm-s,  hands, 
fingers,  and  feet  were  lengthened  out  of  all  propor- 
tion to  the  rest  of  his  frame.  His  joints  were  large 
and  his  limbs  small ;  and  as  for  flesh,  he  could  not, 
with  propriety,  be  said  to  have  any.  Those  parts 
which  nature  usually  supplies  with  the  most  of  this 
article  —  the  calves  of  the  legs,  for  example  —  pre- 


8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE, 

sented  in  him  the  appearance  of  so  many  well-drawn 
blisters.  His  height  was  just  five  feet  nothing,  and 
his  average  weight,  in  blackberry  season,  ninety-five. 
I  have  been  thus  particular  in  describing  him  for 
the  purpose  of  showing  what  a  great  matter  a  little 
fire  sometimes  kindleth.  There  was  nothing  on  this 
earth  which  delighted  Ransy  so  much  as  a  fight. 
He  never  seemed  fairly  alive  except  when  he  was 
witnessing,  fomenting,  or  talking  about  a  fight. 
Then,  indeed,  his  deep-sunken  gray  eye  assumed 
something  of  a  living  fire,  and  his  tongue  acquired 
a  volubility  that  bordered  upon  eloquence.  Ransy 
had  been  kept  for  more  than  a  year  in  the  most  tor- 
turing suspense  as  to  the  comparative  manhood  of 
Billy  Stallings  and  Bob  Durham.  He  had  resorted 
to  all  his  usual  expedients  to  bring  them  in  collision, 
and  had  entirely  failed.  He  had  faithfully  reported 
to  Bob  all  that  had  been  said  by  the  people  in  the 
upper  battalion  *' agin  him,"  and  "he  was  sure  Billy 
Stallings  started  it.  He  heard  Billy  say  himself  to 
Jim  Brown  that  he  could  whip  him,  or  any  other  man 
in  his  battalion  ;  "  and  this  he  told  to  Bob,  adding, 
"  Dod  darn  his  soul,  if  he  was  a  little  bigger,  if  he  'd 
let  any  man  pnt  2ipon  his  battalion  in  such  a  way." 
Bob  replied,  "  If  he  [Stallings]  thought  so,  he  'd  bet- 
ter come  and  try  it."  This  Ransy  carried  to  Billy, 
and  delivered  it  with  a  spirit  becoming  his  own  dig- 
nity and  the  character  of  his  battalion,  and  with  a 
coloring  well  calculated  to  give  it  effect.  These  and 
many  other  schemes  which  Ransy  laid  for  the  grati- 
fication of  his  curiosity  entirely  failed  of  their  object. 
Billy  and  Bob  continued  friends,  and  Ransy  had  be- 
gun to  lapse  into  the  most  tantalizing  and  hopeless 
despair,  when  a  circumstance  occurred  which  led  to 
a  settlement  of  the  long-disputed  question. 


GEORGIA  SCEN-ES.  9 

It  is  said  that  a  hundred  game-cocks  Vv^ill  live  in 
perfect  harmony  together,  if  you  do  not  put  a  hen 
with  them ;  and  so  it  would  have  been  with  Billy 
and  Bob  had  there  been  no  women  in  the  world. 
But  there  were  women  in  the  world,  and  from  them 
each  of  our  heroes  had  taken  to  himself  a  wife. 
The  good  ladies  were  no  strangers  to  the  prowess 
of  their  husbands,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  they 
presumed  a  little  upon  it. 

The  two  battalions  had  met  at  the  Courthouse 
upon  a  regimental  parade.  The  two  champions 
were  there,  and  their  wives  had  accompanied  them. 
Neither  knew  the  other's  lady,  nor  were  the  ladies 
known  to  each  other.  The  exercises  of  the  day 
were  just  over,  when  Mrs.  Stallings  and  Mrs.  Dur- 
ham stepped  simultaneously  into  the  store  of  Zeph- 
aniah  Atwater,  from  *'  Down  East." 

*'  Have  you  any  Turkey  red  .^ "  said  Mrs.  S. 

"  Have  you  any  curtain  calico  }  "  said  Mrs.  D.,  at 
the  same  moment. 

"  Yes,  ladies,"  said  Mr.  Atwater,  "  I  have  both." 

"  Then  help  me  first,"  said  Mrs.  D.,  "  for  I  'm  in 
a  hurry." 

"  I  'm  in  as  great  a  hurry  as  she  is,"  said  Mrs.  S., 
•*  and  I  '11  thank  you  to  help  me  first." 

"  And  pray,  who  are  you,  madam  }  "  continued  the 
other. 

"  Your  betters,  madam,"  was  the  reply. 

At  this  moment  Billy  Stallings  stepped  in. 
•*  Come,"  said  he,  "  Nancy,  let 's  be  going  ;  it 's  get- 
ting late." 

'*  I  'd  V  been  gone  half  an  hour  ago,"  she  replied, 
"'  if  it  had  n't  'a'  been  for  that  impudent  hussy." 

"  Who  do  you  call  an  impudent  hussy,  you  nasty, 


lO  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

good-for-nothing,  snaggle-toothed  gaub  of  fat,  you  ?  " 
returned  Mrs.  D. 

"  Look  here,  woman,"  said  Billy,  "  have  you  got 
a  husband  here  ?  If  you  have,  I  '11  lick  him  till  he 
learns  to  teach  you  better  manners,  you  sassy  heifer, 
you  !  "  At  this  moment  something  was  seen  to  rush 
out  of  the  store  as  if  ten  thousand  hornets  were 
stinging  it,  crying,  "Take  care  —  let  me  go  —  don't 
hold  me  —  where 's  Bob  Durham  ?"  It  was  Ransy 
Sniffle,  who  had  been  listening  in  breathless  dehght 
to  all  that  had  passed. 

**  Yonder  's  Bob,  setting  on  the  Courthouse 
steps  !  "  cried  one.     "  What 's  the  matter  }  " 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  !  "  said  Ransy.  "  Bob  Durham, 
you  'd  better  go  long  yonder,  and  take  care  of  your 
wife.  They  're  playing  h — 1  with  her  there,  in  Zeph 
Atwater's  store.  Dod  etarnally  darn  my  soul,  if  any 
man  was  to  talk  to  my  wife  as  Bill  Stallions  is  talk- 
ing to  yours,  if  I  would  n't  drive  blue  blazes  through 
him  in  less  than  no  time." 

Bob  sprang  to  the  store  in  a  minute,  followed  by 
a  hundred  friends ;  for  the  bully  of  a  county  never 
wants  friends. 

"Bill  Stallions,"  said  Bob,  as  he  entered,  "what 
have  you  been  saying  to  my  wife }  " 

"  Is  that  your  wife  }  "  inquired  Billy,  obviously 
much  surprised,  and  a  little  disconcerted. 

"  Yes,  she  is,  and  no  man  shall  abuse  her,  I  don't 
care  who  he  is." 

"  Well,"  rejoined  Billy,  "  it  ain't  worth  while  to  go 
over  it.  I  've  said  enough  for  a  fight ;  and  if  you  '11 
step  out  we  '11  settle  it !  " 

**  Billy,"  said  Bob,  "are  you  for  a  fair  fight } " 

"I  am,"  said  Billy.     "I've  heard  much  of  your 


GEORGIA   SCEXES.  II 

manhood,  and  I  believe  I  'm  a  better  man  than  you 
are.  If  you  will  go  into  a  ring  with  me,  we  can 
soon  settle  the  dispute." 

"  Choose  your  friends,"  said  Bob ;  "  make  your 
ring,  and  I  '11  be  in  with  mine  as  soon  as  you  will." 

They  both  stepped  out,  and  began  to  strip  very 
deliberately,  each  battalion  gathering  round  its 
champion,  except  Ransy,  who  kept  himself  busy  in 
a  most  honest  endeavor  to  hear  and  see  all  that 
transpired  in  both  groups  at  the  same  time.  He 
ran  from  one  to  the  other  in  quick  succession ; 
peeped  here,  and  listened  there  ;  talked  to  this  one, 
then  to  that  one,  and  then  to  himself;  squatted  un- 
der one's  legs  and  another's  arms,  and  in  the  short 
interval  between  stripping  and  stepping  into  the 
ring  managed  to  get  himself  trod  on  by  half  of  both 
battalions.  But  Ransy  was  not  the  only  one  in- 
terested upon  this  occasion ;  the  most  intense  in- 
terest prevailed  everywhere.  Many  were  the  con- 
jectures, doubts,  oaths,  and  imprecations  uttered 
^hile  the  parties  were  preparing  for  the  combat. 
4  11  the  knowing  ones  were  consulted  as  to  the  issue, 
and  they  all  agreed,  to  a  man,  in  one  of  two  opin- 
ions :  either  that  Bob  would  flog  Billy,  or  Billy  would 
flog  Bob.  We  must  be  permitted,  however,  to  dwell 
for  a  moment  upon  the  opinion  of  Squire  Thomas 
I  oggins,  a  man  who,  it  w^as  said,  had  never  failed 
in  all  his  life  to  predict  the  issue  of  a  fight.  Indeed, 
30  unerring  had  he  always  proved  in  this  regard  that 
it  would  have  been  counted  the  most  obstinate  infi- 
delity to  doubt  for  a  moment  after  he  had  delivered 
bimself.  Squire  Loggins  was  a  man  who  said  but 
little,  but  that  little  was  always  delivered  with  the 
most' imposing  solemnity  of  look  and  cadence.      He 


12  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

always  wore  the  aspect  of  profound  thought,  and 
you  could  not  look  at  him  without  coming  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  elaborating  truth  from  its 
most  intricate  combinations. 

*' Uncle  Tommy,"  said   Sam  Reynolds,  "you  can 
tell   us  all  about  it,  if  you  will.    How  will  the  fight 


go 


?" 


The  question  immediately  drew  an  anxious  group 
around  the  squire.  He  raised  his  teeth  slowly  from 
the  head  of  his  walking-cane,  on  which  they  had 
been  resting,  pressed  his  lips  closely  and  thought- 
fully together,  threw  down  his  eyebrows,  dropped 
his  chin,  raised  his  eyes  to  an  angle  of  twenty-three 
degrees,  paused  about  half  a  minute,  and  repHed, 
**  Sammy,  watch  Robert  Durham  close  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  fight;  take  care  of  William  Stallions 
in  the  middle  of  it ;  and  see  who  has  the  wind  at  the 
end."  As  he  uttered  the  last  member  of  the  sen' 
tence,  he  looked  slyly  at  Bob's  friends,  and  winked 
very  significantly  ;  whereupon  they  rushed,  with  one 
accord,  to  tell  Bob  what  Uncle  Tommy  had  said. 
As  they  retired,  the  squire  turned  to  Billy's  friends, 
and  said,  with  a  smile,  "  Them  boys  think  I  mean 
that  Bob  will  whip." 

Here  the  other  party  kindled  into  joy,  and  has- 
tened to  inform  Billy  how  Bob's  friends  had  deceived 
themselves  as  to  Uncle  Tommy's  opinion.  In  the 
mean  time  the  principals  and  seconds  were  busily 
employed  in  preparing  themselves  for  the  combat. 
The  plan  of  attack  and  defense,  the  manner  of  im- 
proving the  various  turns  of  the  conflict,  "  the  best 
mode  of  saving  wind,"  etc.,  etc.,  were  all  discussed 
and  settled.  At  length  Billy  announced  himself 
ready,  and  his  crowd  were  seen  moving  to  the  centre 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  I  3 

of  the  Courthouse  Square  ;  he  and  his  five  seconds 
in  the  rear.  At  the  same  time,  Bob's  party  moved 
to  the  same  point,  and  in  the  same  order.  The  ring 
was  now  formed,  and  for  a  moment  the  silence  of 
death  reigned  through  both  battahons.  It  was  soon 
interrupted,  however,  by  the  cry  of  "  Clear  the  way  !  " 
from  Billy's  seconds  ;  when  the  ring  opened  in  the 
centre  of  the  upper  battalion  (for  the  order  of  march 
had  arranged  the  centre  of  the  two  battalions  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  circle),  and  Billy  stepped  into 
the  ring  from  the  east,  followed  by  his  friends.  He 
was  stripped  to  the  trousers,  and  exhibited  an  arm, 
breast,  and  shoulders  of  the  most  tremendous  por- 
tent. His  step  was  firm,  daring,  and  martial ;  and 
as  he  bore  his  fine  form  a  little  in  advance  of  his 
friends,  an  involuntary  burst  of  triumph  broke  from 
his  side  of  the  ring,  and  at  the  same  moment  an 
uncontrollable  thrill  Ox  awe  ran  along  the  whole 
curve  of  the  lower  battalion. 

"  Look  at  him  ! "  was  heard  from  his  friends ; 
"just  look  at  him." 

'*  Ben,  how  much  you  ask  to  stand  before  that 
man  two  seconds  }  " 

"  Pshaw,  don't  talk  about  it !  Just  thinkin'  about 
it  's  broke  three  o'  my  ribs  a'ready  ! " 

"  What 's  Bob  Durham  going  to  do  when  Billy 
lets  that  arm  loose  upon  him  }  " 

"  God  bless  your  soul,  he  '11  think  thunder  and 
lightning  a  mint  julip  to  it." 

"  Oh,  look  here,  men  I  Go  take  Bill  Stallions  out 
o'  that  ring,  and  bring  in  Phil  Johnson's  stud  horse, 
so  that  Durham  may  have  some  chance  !  I  don't 
want  to  see  the  man  killed  right  away." 

These  and    many   other   like  expressions,  inter 


14  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

spersed  thickly  with  oaths  of  the  most  modern  coin- 
age, were  coming  from  all  points  of  the  upper  bat- 
taUon,  while  Bob  was  adjusting  the  girth  of  his 
pantaloons,  which  walking  had  discovered  not  to  be 
exactly  right.  It  was  just  fixed  to  his  mind,  his  foes 
becoming  a  little  noisy,  and  his  friends  a  little  un- 
easy at  his  delay,  when  Billy  called  out,  with  a 
smile  of  some  meaning,  ''  Where  's  the  bully  of  the 
lower  battalion  ?     I  'm  getting  tired  of  waiting." 

"  Here  he  is,"  said  Bob,  lighting,  as  it  seemed, 
from  the  clouds  into  the  ring,  for  he  had  actually 
bounded  clear  of  the  head  of  Ransy  Sniffle  into  the 
circle.  His  descent  was  quite  as  imposing  as  Billy's 
entry,  and  excited  the  same  feelings,  but  in  opposite 
bosoms. 

Voices  of  exultation  now  rose  on  his  side. 

**  Where  did  he  come  from  t  " 

"  Why,"  said  one  of  his  seconds  (all  having  just 
entered),  '*  we  were  girting  him  up,  about  a  hun- 
dred yards  out  yonder,  when  he  heard  Billy  ask  for 
the  bully ;  and  he  fetched  a  leap  over  the  Court- 
house, and  went  out  of  sight.  But  I  told  them  to 
come  on  ;   they  'd  find  him  here." 

Here  the  lower  battalion  burst  into  a  peal  of 
laughter,  mingled  with  a  look  of  admiration,  which 
seemed  to  denote  their  entire  belief  of  what  they 
had  heard. 

"  Boys,  widen  the  ring,  so  as  to  give  him  room  to 
jump." 

"  Oh,  my  little  flying  wild-cat,  hold  him  if  you 
can  !  And,  when  you  get  him  fast,  hold  lightning 
next." 

"  Ned,  what  do  you  think  he  's  made  of  1 " 

"  Steel  springs  and  chicken-hawk,  God  bless 
you ! 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  1 5 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  one  of  Bob's  seconds,  "  I  un- 
derstand it  is  to  be  a  fair  fight  ;  catch  as  catch  can, 
rough  and  tumble  ;  no  man  touch  till  one  or  the 
other  halloos." 

'*  That 's  the  rule,"  was  the  reply  from  the  other 
side, 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

*'  We  are  ready." 

"  Then  blaze  away,  my  game-cocks  !  " 

At  the  word.  Bob  dashed  at  his  antagonist  at  full 
speed  ;  and  Bill  squared  himself  to  receive  him  with 
one  of  his  most  fatal  blows.  Making  his  calculation 
from  Bob's  velocity  of  the  time  when  he  would 
come  within  striking  distance,  he  let  drive  with 
tremendous  force.  But  Bob's  onset  was  obviously 
planned  to  avoid  this  blow ;  for,  contrary  to  all  ex- 
pectations, he  stopped  short  just  out  of  arm's  reach, 
and  before  Billy  could  recover  his  balance  Bob 
had  him  "all  under-hold."  The  next  second,  sure 
enough,  "  found  Billy's  head  where  his  feet  ought  to 
be."  How  it  was  done  no  one  could  tell  ;  but,  as  if 
by  supernatural  power,  both  Billy's  feet  were  thrown 
full  half  his  own  height  in  the  air,  and  he  came 
down  with  a  force  that  seemed  to  shake  the  earth. 
As  he  struck  the  ground,  commingled  shouts, 
screams,  and  yells  burst  from  the  lower  battalion, 
loud  enough  to  be  heard  for  miles.  "■  Hurrah,  my 
little  hornet  !  "  "  Save  him  !  "  "  Feed  him  !  " 
**  Give  him  the  Durham  physic  till  his  stomach 
turns  !  "  Billy  was  no  sooner  down  than  Bob  was 
on  him,  and  lending  him  awful  blows  about  the  face 
and  breast.  Billy  made  two  efforts  to  rise  by  main 
strength,  but  failed.  "  Lord  bless  you,  man,  don't 
try  to  get  up  !  Lay  still  and  take  it !  You  bleege  to 
have  it ! " 


1 6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Billy  now  turned  his  face  suddenly  to  the  ground, 
and  rose  upon  his  hands  and  knees.  Bob  jerked 
up  both  his  hands  and  threw  him  on  his  face.  He 
again  recovered  his  late  position,  of  which  Bob  en- 
deavored to  deprive  him  as  before  ;  but,  missing 
one  arm,  he  failed,  and  Billy  rose.  But  he  had 
scarcely  resumed  his  feet  before  they  flew  up  as 
before,  and  he  came  again  to  the  ground.  *'  No 
fight,  gentlemen  ! "  cried  Bob's  friends  ;  ''  the  man 
can't  stand  up  !  Bouncing  feet  are  bad  things  to 
fight  in."  His  fall,  however,  was  this  time  com- 
paratively light,  for,  having  thrown  his  right  arm 
rouad  Bob's  neck,  he  carried  his  head  down  with 
him.  This  grasp,  which  was  obstinately  maintained, 
prevented  Bob  from  getting  on  him,  and  they  lay 
head  to  head,  seeming,  for  a  time,  to  do  nothing. 
Presently  they  rose,  as  if  by  mutual  consent  ;  and, 
as  they  rose,  a  shout  burst  from  both  battalions. 
''  Oh,  my  lark  !  "  cried  the  east,  '*  has  he  foxed  you } 
Do  you  begin  to  feel  him  }  He  's  only  beginning  to 
fight ;  he  ain't  got  warm  yet." 

"  Look  yonder  !  "  cried  the  west.  ''  Did  n't  I  tell 
you  so  }  He  hit  the  ground  so  hard  it  jarred  his 
nose  off.  Now  ain't  he  a  pretty  man  as  he  stands  t 
He  shall  have  my  sister  Sal  just  for  his  pretty  looks. 
I  want  to  get  in  the  breed  of  them  sort  o'  men,  to 
drive  ugly  out  of  my  kinfolks." 

I  looked,  and  saw  that  Bob  had  entirely  lost  his 
left  ear  and  a  large  piece  from  his  left  cheek.  His 
right  eye  was  a  little  discolored,  and  the  blood 
flowed  profusely  from  his  wounds. 

Bill  presented  a  hideous  spectacle.  About  a  third 
of  his  nose,  at  the  lower  extremity,  was  bit  off,  and 
his  face  so  swelled  and  bruised  that  it  was  difficult 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  ly 

to  discover  in  it  anything  of  the  human  visage, 
much  more  the  fine  features  which  he  carried  into 
the  ring. 

They  were  up  only  long  enough  for  me  to  make 
the  foregoing  discoveries,  when  down  they  went 
again,  precisely  as  before.  They  no  sooner  touched 
the  ground  than  Bill  relinquished  his  hold  upon 
Bob's  neck.  In  this  he  seemed  to  all  to  have  for- 
feited the  only  advantage  which  put  him  upon  an 
equality  with  his  adversary.  But  the  movement 
was  soon  explained.  Bill  wanted  this  arm  for  other 
purposes  than  defense,  and  he  had  made  arrange- 
ments whereby  he  knew  that  he  could  make  it  an- 
swer these  purposes  ;  for,  when  they  rose  again,  he 
had  the  middle  finger  of  Bob's  left  hand  in  his 
mouth.  He  was  now  secure  from  Bob's  annoying 
trips  ;  and  he  began  to  lend  his  adversary  tremen- 
dous blows,  every  one  of  which  was  hailed  by  a 
shout  from  his  friends.  "  Bullets  !  "  '*  Hoss-kicking  !  " 
*'  Thunder  !  " 

"  That  '11  do  for  his  face  ;  now  feel  his  short  ribs, 
Billy  ! " 

I  now  considered  the  contest  settled.  I  deemed 
it  impossible  for  any  human  being  to  withstand  for 
five  seconds  the  loss  of  blood  which  issued  from 
Bob's  ear,  cheek,  nose,  and  finger,  accompanied 
with  such  blows  as  he  was  receiving.  Still  he 
maintained  the  conflict,  and  gave  blow  for  blow  with 
considerable  effect.  But  the  blows  of  each  became 
slower  and  weaker  after  the  first  three  or  four  ;  and 
it  became  obvious  that  Bill  wanted  the  room  which 
Bob's  finger  occupied  for  breathing.  He  would 
therefore,  probably,  in  a  short  time,  have  let  it  go, 
had  not  Bob   anticipated   his   politeness  by  jerking 

2 


1 8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

away  his  hand,  and  making  him  a  present  of  the 
finger.  He  now  seized  Bill  again,  and  brought  him 
to  his  knees,  but  he  recovered.  He  again  brought 
him  to  his  knees,  and  he  again  recovered.  A  third 
effort,  however,  brought  him  down,  and  Bob  on  top 
of  him.  These  efforts  seemed  to  exhaust  the  little 
remaining  strength  of  both,  and  they  lay,  Bill  un- 
dermost and  Bob  across  his  breast,  motionless 
and  panting  for  breath.  After  a  short  pause,  Bob 
gathered  his  hand  full  of  dirt  and  sand,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  grinding  it  in  his  adversary's  eyes,  when 
Bill  cried  **  Enough  !  "  Language  cannot  describe 
the  scene  that  followed,  —  the  shouts,  oaths,  frantic 
gestures,  taunts,  replies,  and  little  fights, —  and  there- 
fore I  shall  not  attempt  it.  The  champions  were 
borne  off  by  their  seconds  and  washed,  when  many 
a  bleeding  wound  and  ugly  bruise  was  discovered 
on  each  which  no  eye  had  seen  before. 

Many  had  gathered  round  Bob,  and  were  in  vari- 
ous ways  congratulating  and  applauding  him,  when 
a  voice  from  the  centre  of  the  circle  cried  out,  "  Boys, 
hush,  and  listen  to  me  !  "  It  proceeded  from  Squire 
Loggins,  who  had  made  his  way  to  Bob's  side,  and 
had  gathered  his  face  up  into  one  of  its  most  flatter- 
ing and  intelligible  expressions.  All  were  obedient 
to  the  squire's  command.  "  Gentlemen,"  continued 
he,  with  a  most  knowing  smile,  "  is  —  Sammy  —  Rey- 
nold —  in  — this  — company  —  of  —  gentlemen  t " 

**  Yes,"  said  Sam,  "  here  I  am." 

"  Sammy,"  said  the  squire,  winking  to  the  com- 
pany, and  drawing  the  head  of  his  cane  to  his  mouth 
with  an  arch  smile  as  he  closed,  "I  —  wish  —  you 
—  to  tell  —  cousin  —  Bobby  —  and  —  these  —  gen- 
tlemen here  present  —  what  —  your  —  Uncle  — 
Tommy  —  said  —  before  —  the  —  fight  —  began  }  " 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  I9 

"  Oh,  get  away,  Uncle  Tom,"  said  Sam,  smiling 
(the  squire  winked) ;  "  you  don't  know  nothing  about 
fighting!'  (The  squire  winked  again.)  "  All  you 
know  about  it  is  how  it  '11  begin,  how  it  '11  go  on, 
how  it  '11  end  ;  that 's  all.  Cousin  Bob,  when  you 
going  to  fight  again,  just  go  to  the  old  man,  and  let 
him  tell  you  all  about  it.  If  he  can't,  don't  ask  no- 
body else  nothing  about  it,  I  tell  you." 

The  squire's  foresight  was  complimented  in  many 
ways  by  the  by-standers  ;  and  he  retired,  advising 
*'  the  boys  to  be  at  peace,  as  fighting  was  a  bad  busi- 
ness." 

Durham  and  Stallings  kept  their  beds  for  several 
weeks,  and  did  not  meet  again  for  two  months. 
When  they  met,  Billy  stepped  up  to  Bob  and  offered 
his  hand,  saying,  "  Bobby,  you  've  licked  me  a  fair 
fight ;  but  you  would  n't  have  done  it  if  I  had  n't  been 
in  the  wrong.  I  ought  n't  to  have  treated  your  wife 
as  I  did  ;  and  I  felt  so  through  the  whole  fight ;  and 
it  sort  o'  cowed  me." 

''Well,  Billy,"  said  Bob,  ''let's  be  friends.  Once 
in  the  fight,  when  you  had  my  finger  in  your  mouth, 
and  was  pealing  me  in  the  face  and  breast,  I  was  go- 
ing to  halloo  ;  but  I  thought  of  Petsy,  and  knew  the 
house  would  be  too  hot  for  me  if  I  got  whipped  when 
fighting  for  her,  after  always  whipping  when  I  fought 
for  myself." 

"  Now  that 's  what  I  always  love  to  see,"  said  a 
by-stander.  "  It 's  true,  I  brought  about  the  fight, 
but  I  would  n't  have  done  it  if  it  had  n't  o'  been  on 
account  of  Miss  [Mrs.]  Durham.  But  dod  etarnally 
darn  my  soul,  if  I  ever  could  stand  by  and  see  any 
woman  put  upon,  much  less  Miss  Durham.  If  Bobby 
had  n't  been  there,  I  'd  o'  took  it  up  myself,  be  darned 


20  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

if  I  would  n't,  even  if  I  'd  o'  got  whipped  for  it.  But 
we're  all  friends  now,"  The  reader  need  hardly  be 
told  that  this  was  Ransy  Sniffle. 

Thanks  to  the  Christian  religion,  to  schools,  col- 
leges, and  benevolent  associations,  such  scenes  of 
barbarism  and  cruelty  as  that  which  I  have  been 
just  describing  are  now  of  rare  occurrence,  though 
they  may  still  be  occasionally  met  with  in  some  of 
the  new  counties.  Wherever  they  prevail,  they  are 
a  disgrace  to  that  community.  The  peace-officers 
who  countenance  them  deserve  a  place  in  the  peni- 
teDtiary.  ' 

III. 

THE   HORSE-SWAP. 

During  the  session  of  the  Supreme  Court  in  the 
village  of ,  about  three  weeks  ago,  when  a  num- 
ber of  people  were  collected  in  the  principal  street 
of  the  village,  I  observed  a  young  man  riding  up  and 
down  the  street,  as  I  supposed,  in  a  violent  passion. 
He  galloped  this  way,  then  that,  and  then  the  other  ; 
spurred  his  horse  to  one  group  of  citizens,  then  to 
another  ;  then  dashed  off  at  half  speed,  as  if  fleeing 
from  danger  ;  and,  suddenly  checking  his  horse,  re- 
turned first  in  a  pace,  then  in  a  trot,  and  then  in 
a  canter.  While  he  was  performing  these  various 
evolutions,  he  cursed,  swore,  whooped,  screamed, 
and  tossed  himself  in  every  attitude  which  man  could 
assume  on  horseback.  In  short,  he  cazwrted  most 
magnanimously  (a  term  which,  in  our  tongue,  ex- 
presses all  that  I  have  described,  and  a  little  more), 
and  seemed  to  be  setting  all  creation  at  defiance. 
As  I  like  to  see  all  that  is  passing,  I  determined  to 


GEORGIA    SCENES.  21 

take  a  position  a  little  nearer  to  him,  and  to  ascer- 
tain, if  possible,  what  it  was  that  affected  him  so 
sensibly.  Accordingly,  I  approached  a  crowd  be- 
fore which  he  had  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  ex- 
amined it  with  the  strictest  scrutiny.  But  I  could 
see  nothing  in  it  that  seemed  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  the  cavorter.  Every  man  appeared  to  be  in 
good  bamor,  and  all  minding  their  own  business. 
Not  one  so  much  as  noticed  the  principal  figure. 
StCi  he  went  on.  After  a  semicolon  pause,  which 
my  appearance  seemed  to  produce  (for  he  eyed  me 
closely  as  I  approached),  he  fetched  a  whoop,  and 
swore  that  "  he  could  out-swap  any  live  man,  woman, 
or  child  that  ever  walked  these  hills,  or  that  ever 
straddled  horseflesh  since  the  days  of  old  daddy 
Adam."  "Stranger,"  said  he  to  me,  ''did  you  ever 
see  the  Yallow  Blossom  from  Jasper  1  " 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  but  I  have  often  heard  of  him." 

"  I  'm  the  boy,"  continued  he  ;  "perhaps  a  leetle 
— jist  a  leetle  —  of  the  best  man  at  a  horse-swap 
that  ever  trod  shoe-leather." 

I  began  to  feel  my  situation  a  little  awkward,  when 
I  was  relieved  by  a  man  somewhat  advanced  in 
years,  who  stepped  up  and  began  to  survey  the 
*'  Yallow  Blossom's  "  horse  with  much  apparent  in- 
terest. This  drew  the  rider's  attention,  and  he 
turned  the  conversation  from  me  to  the  stranger. 

"Well,  my  old  coon,"  said  he,  "do  you  want  to 
swap  hosses  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  stranger.  "  I 
believe  I  've  got  a  beast  I  'd  trade  with  you  for  that 
one,  if  vou  like  him." 

"  Well,  fetch  up  your  nag,  my  old  cock  ;  you  're 
jist  the  lark  I  wanted  to  get  hold  of.      I  am  perhaps 


22  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

a  leetle  —  jist  a  leetle —  of  the  best  man  at  a  horse- 
swap  that  ever  stole  cracklins  out  of  his  mammy's 
fat  gourd.     Where  's  your  hoss  ?  " 

"  I  '11  bring  him  presently  ;  but  I  want  to  examine 
your  horse  a  little." 

"  Oh,  look  at  him  !  "  said  the  Blossom,  alighting 
and  hitting  him  a  cut  ;  **  look  at  him  !  He  's  the 
best  piece  of  hossflesh  in  the  thirteen  united  univar- 
sal  worlds.  There  's  no  sort  o'  mistake  in  little  Bul- 
let. He  can  pick  up  miles  on  his  feet,  and  fling 
'em  behind  him  as  fast  as  the  next  man's  hoss,  I 
don't  care  where  he  comes  from.  And  he  can  keep 
at  it  as  long  as  the  sun  can  shine  without  resting." 

During  this  harangue,  little  Bullet  looked  as  if  he 
understood  it  all,  believed  it,  and  was  ready  at  any 
moment  to  verify  it.  He  was  a  horse  of  goodly 
countenance,  rather  expressive  of  vigilance  than  fire  ; 
though  an  unnatural  appearance  of  fierceness  was 
thrown  into  it  by  the  loss  of  his  ears,  which  had  been 
cropped  pretty  close  to  his  head.  Nature  had  done 
but  little  for  Bullet's  head  and  neck  :  but  he  man- 
aged, in  a  great  measure,  to  hide  their  defects  by 
bowing  perpetually.  He  had  obviously  suffered  se- 
verely for  corn,  but  if  his  ribs  and  hip-bones  had 
not  disclosed  the  fact,  he  never  would  have  done  it  ; 
for  he  was  in  all  respects  as  cheerful  and  happy  as 
if  he  commanded  all  the  corn-cribs  and  fodder-stacks 
in  Georgia.  His  height  was  about  twelve  hands  ; 
but  as  his  shape  partook  somewhat  of  that  of  the 
giraffe,  his  haunches  stood  much  lower.  They  were 
short,  strait,  peaked,  and  concave.  Bullet's  tail,  how- 
ever, made  amends  for  all  his  defects.  All  that  the 
artist  could  do  to  beautify  it  had  been  done  ;  and  all 
that  horse  could  do  to  compliment  the  artist  Bullet 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  23 

did.  His  tail  was  nicked  in  superior  style,  and  ex- 
hibited the  line  of  beauty  in  so  many  directions  that 
it  could  not  fail  to  hit  the  most  fastidious  taste  in 
some  of  them.  From  the  root  it  dropped  into  a 
graceful  festoon  ;  then  rose  in  a  handsome  curve  ; 
then  resumed  its  first  direction  ;  and  then  mounted 
suddenly  upward  like  a  cypress  knee,  to  a  perpendic- 
ular of  about  two  and  a  half  inches.  The  whole  had 
a  careless  and  bewitching  inclination  to  the  right. 
Bullet  obviously  knew  where  his  beauty  lay,  and 
took  all  occasions  to  display  it  to  the  best  advantage. 
If  a  stick  cracked,  or  if  any  one  moved  suddenly 
about  him,  or  coughed,  or  hawked,  or  spoke  a  little 
louder  than  common,  up  went  Bullet's  tail  like  light- 
ning ;  and  if  the  goiiig  tip  did  not  please,  the  coming 
dowji  must  of  necessity,  for  it  was  as  different  from 
the  other  movement  as  was  its  direction.  The  first 
was  a  bold  and  rapid  flight  upward,  usually  to  an 
angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  In  this  position  he  kept 
his  interesting  appendage  until  he  satisfied  himself 
that  nothing  in  particular  was  to  be  done  ;  when  he 
commenced  dropping  it  by  half  inches,  in  second 
beats,  then  in  triple  time,  then  faster  and  shorter, 
and  faster  and  shorter  still,  until  it  finally  died  away 
imperceptibly  into  its  natural  position.  If  I  might 
compare  sights  to  sounds,  I  should  say  its  settling 
was  more  like  the  note  of  a  locust  than  anything 
else  in  nature. 

Either  from  native  sprightliness  of  disposition, 
from  uncontrollable  activity,  or  from  an  unconquer- 
able habit  of  removing  flies  by  the  stamping  of  the 
feet,  Bullet  never  stood  still  ;  but  always  kept  up  a 
gentle  fly-scaring  movement  of  his  limbs,  which  was 
peculiarly  interesting. 


24  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  I  tell  you,  man,"  proceeded  the  Yellow  Blossom, 
"he's  the  best  live  hoss  that  ever  trod  the  grit  of 
Georgia.  Bob  Smart  knows  the  hoss.  Come  here, 
Bob,  and  mount  this  hoss,  and  show  Bullet's  mo- 
tions." Here  Bullet  bristled  up,  and  looked  as  if  he 
had  been  hunting  for  Bob  all  day  long,  and  had  just 
found  him.  Bob  sprang  on  his  back.  "  Boo-oo-oo  ! " 
said  Bob,  with  a  fluttering  noise  of  the  lips  ;  and 
away  went  Bullet,  as  if  in  a  quarter  race,  with  all 
his  beauties  spread  in  handsome  style. 

"  Now  fetch  him  back,"  said  Blossom.  Bullet 
turned,  and  came  in  pretty  much  as  he  went  out. 

"  Now  trot  him  by."  Bullet  reduced  his  tail  to 
'''customary^'  sidled  to  the  right  and  left  airily,  and 
exhibited  at  least  three  varieties  of  trot  in  the  short 
space  of  fifty  yards. 

*'  Make  him  pace  !  "  Bob  commenced  twitching 
the  bridle,  and  kicking  at  the  same  time.  These 
inconsistent  movements  obviously  (and  most  natu- 
rally) disconcerted  Bullet  ;  for  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  learn  from  them  whether  he  was  to  proceed 
or  stand  still.  He  started  to  trot,  and  was  told  that 
would  n't  do.  He  attempted  a  canter,  and  was 
checked  again.  He  stopped,  and  was  urged  to  go 
on.  Bullet  now  rushed  into  the  wide  field  of  experi- 
ment, and  struck  out  a  gait  of  his  own,  that  com- 
pletely turned  the  tables  upon  his  rider,  and  certainly 
deserved  a  patent.  It  seemed  to  have  derived  its 
elements  from  the  jig,  the  minuet,  and  the  cotillon. 
If  it  was  not  a  pace,  it  certainly  had  pace  in  it,  and 
no  man  would  venture  to  call  it  anything  else ;  so  it 
passed  off  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  owner. 

"  Walk  him  !  "  Bullet  was  now  at  home  again, 
and  he  walked  as  if  money  was  staked  on  him. 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  2$ 

The  Stranger,  —  whose  name,  I  afterward  learned, 
^vas  Peter  Ketch, — having  examined  Bullet  to  his 
heart's  content,  ordered  his  son  Neddy  to  go  and 
bring  up  Kit.  Neddy  soon  appeared  upon  Kit, 
a  well-formed  sorrel  of  the  middle  size,  and  in  good 
order.  His  tout  ensemble  threw  Bullet  entirely  in 
the  shade,  chough  a  glance  was  sufficient  to  satisfy 
any  one  that  Bullet  had  the  decided  advantage  of 
him  in  point  of  intellect. 

"Why,  man,"  said  Blossom,  "do  you  bring  such 
a  boss  as  that  to  trade  for  Bullet }  Oh,  I  see  you  're 
no  notion  of  trading." 

*'  Ride  him  off,  Neddy  !  "  said  Peter.  Kit  put  off 
at  a  handsome  lope. 

''  Trot  him  back  !  "  Kit  came  in  at  a  long,  sweep- 
ing trot,  and  stopped  suddenly  at  the  crowd. 

*'  Well,"  said  Blossom,  "  let  me  look  at  him  ;  may 
be  he  '11  do  to  plow." 

"  Examine  him  !  "  said  Peter,  taking  hold  of  the 
bridle  close  to  the  mouth  ;  ''  he  's  nothing  but  a 
tacky.  He  ain't  as  pretty  a  horse  as  Bullet,  I  know  ; 
but  he  '11  do.  Start  'em  together  for  a  hundred  and 
fifty  mile,  and  if  Kit  ain't  twenty  mile  ahead  of  him 
at  the  coming  cut,  any  man  may  take  Kit  for  noth- 
ing. But  he  's  a  monstrous  mean  horse,  gentlemen  ; 
any  man  may  see  that.  He  's  the  scariest  horse, 
too,  you  ever  saw\  He  won't  do  to  hunt  on,  nohow. 
Stranger,  will  you  let  Neddy  have  your  rifle  to  shoot 
off  him  t  Lay  the  rifle  between  his  ears,  Neddy, 
and  shoot  at  the  blaze  in  that  stump.  Tell  me  when 
his  head  is  high  enough." 

Ned  fired  and  hit  the  blaze ;  and  Kit  did  not  move 
a  hair's  breadth. 

"  Neddy,  take  a  couple  of  sticks,  and  beat  on  that 
hogshead  at  Kit's  tail." 


26  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Ned  made  a  tremendous  rattling,  at  which  Bullet 
took  fright,  broke  his  bridle,  and  dashed  off  in  grand 
style,  and  would  have  stopped  all  further  negotia- 
tions by  going  home  in  disgust,  had  not  a  traveler 
arrested  him  and  brought  him  back ;  but  Kit  did  nos 
move. 

*'  I  tell  you,  gentlemen,"  continued  Peter,  "  he  's  the 
scariest  horse  you  ever  saw.  He  ain't  as  gentle  as 
Bullet,  but  he  won't  do  any  harm  if  you  watch  him. 
Shall  I  put  him  in  a  cart,  gig,  or  wagon  for  you, 
stranger  ?  He  '11  cut  the  same  capers  there  he  does 
here.     He  's  a  monstrous  mean  horse." 

During  all  this  time  Blossom  was  examining  him 
with  the  nicest  scrutiny.  Having  examined  his  frame 
and  limbs,  he  now  looked  at  his  eyes. 

"  He  's  got  a  curious  look  out  of  his  eyes,"  said 
Blossom. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,"  said  Peter  ;  "  just  as  blind  as  a  bat. 
Blind  horses  always  have  clear  eyes.  Make  a  mo- 
tion at  his  eyes,  if  you  please,  sir." 

Blossom  did  so,  and  Kit  threw  up  his  head  rather 
as  if  something  pricked  him  under  the  chin  than  as 
if  fearing  a  blow.  Blossom  repeated  the  experi- 
ment, and  Kit  jerked  back  in  considerable  aston- 
ishment. 

**  Stone  blind,  you  see,  gentlemen,"  proceeded 
Peter;  "but  he's  just  as  good  to  travel  of  a  dark 
night  as  if  he  had  eyes." 

"Blame  my  buttons,"  said  Blossom,  "if  I  lik& 
them  eyes." 

"  No,"  said  Peter,  "  nor  I  neither.  I  'd  rather 
have  'em  made  of  diamonds  ;  but  they  *11  do,  if  they 
don't  show  as  much  white  as  Bullet's." 

"  Well,"  said  Blossom,  "make  a  pass  at  me." 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  2/ 

"  No,"  said  Peter.  **  You  made  the  banter  ;  now 
make  your  pass." 

"  Well,  I  'm  never  afraid  to  price  my  bosses. 
You  must  give  me  twenty -five  dollars  boot." 

"  Oh,  certainly ;  say  fifty,  and  my  saddle  and 
bridle  in.  Here,  Neddy,  my  son,  take  away  daddy's 
horse." 

"  Well,"  said  Blossom,  "  I  've  made  my  pass  ;  now 
you  make  yours." 

"  I  'm  for  short  talk  in  a  horse-swap,  and  therefore 
always  tell  a  gentleman  at  once  what  I  mean  to  do. 
You  must  give  me  ten  dollars." 

Blossom  swore  absolutely,  roundly,  and  profanely, 
that  he  never  would  give  boot. 

"  Well,"  said  Peter,  "  I  did  n't  care  about  trading  ; 
but  you  cut  such  high  shines  that  I  thought  I  'd 
like  to  back  you  out,  and  I  've  done  it.  Gentlemen, 
you  see  I  've  brought  him  to  a  back." 

"  Come,  old  man,"  said  Blossom,  ''  I  've  been  jok- 
ing with  you.  I  begin  to  think  you  do  want  to 
trade ;  therefore,  give  me  five  dollars,  and  take  Bul- 
let. I  'd  rather  lose  ten  dollars  any  time  than  not 
make  a  trade,  though  T  hate  to  fling  away  a  good 
boss." 

*'  Well,"  said  Peter,  '*  I  '11  be  as  clever  as  you  are. 
Just  put  the  five  dollars  on  Bullet's  back,  and  hand 
him  over  ;  it's  a  trade." 

Blossom  swore  again,  as  roundly  as  before,  that 
he  would  not  give  boot  ;  and,  said  he,  "  Bullet 
would  n't  hold  five  dollars  on  his  back,  nohow. 
But,  as  I  bantered  you,  if  you  say  an  even  swap, 
here  's  at  you." 

"  I  told  you,"  said  Peter,  "  I  'd  be  as  clever  as 
you.     Therefore,  here  goes   two  dollars   more,  just 


28  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

for  trade'  sake.  Give  me  three  dollars,  and  it 's  a 
bargain." 

Blossom  repeated  his  former  assertion  ;  and  here 
the  parties  stood  for  a  long  time,  and  the  by- 
standers (for  many  were  now  collected)  began  to 
taunt  both  parties.  After  some  time,  however,  it 
was  pretty  unanimously  decided  that  the  old  man 
had  backed  Blossom  out. 

At  length  Blossom  swore  he  "  never  would  be 
backed  out  for  three  dollars  after  bantering  a  man  ; " 
and,  accordingly,  they  closed  the  trade. 

**  Now,"  said  Blossom,  as  he  handed  Peter  the 
three  dollars,  "  I  'm  a  man  that,  when  he  makes  a 
bad  trade,  makes  the  most  of  it  until  he  can  make 
a  better.     I  'm  for  no  rues  and  after-claps." 

"That's  just  my  way,"  said  Peter.  "  I  never  goes 
to  law  to  mend  my  bargains." 

"  Ah,  you  're  the  kind  of  boy  I  love  to  trade  with. 
Here  's  your  boss,  old  man.  Take  the  saddle  and 
bridle  off  him,  and  I  '11  strip  yours  ;  but  lift  up  the 
blanket  easy  from  Bullet's  back,  for  he  's  a  mighty 
tender-backed  boss." 

The  old  man  removed  the  saddle,  but  the  blanket 
stuck  fast.  He  attempted  to  raise  it,  and  Bullet 
bowed  himself,  switched  his  tail,  danced  a  little,  and 
gave  signs  of  biting. 

"  Don't  hurt  him,  old  man,"  said  Blossom,  archly  ; 
"take  it  off  easy.  I  am,  perhaps,  a  leetle  of  the 
best  man  at  a  horse-swap  that  ever  catched  a  coon." 

Peter  continued  to  pull  at  the  blanket  more  and 
more  roughly,  and  Bullet  became  more  and  more 
cavortish ;  insomuch  that,  when  the  blanket  came 
off,  he  had  reached  the  kicking  point  in  good 
earnest 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  29 

The  removal  of  the  blanket  disclosed  a  sore  on 
Bullet's  backbone  that  seemed  to  have  defied  all 
medical  skill.  It  measured  six  full  inches  in  length 
and  four  in  breadth,  and  had  as  many  features  as 
Bullet  had  motions.  My  heart  sickened  at  the 
sight  ;  and  I  felt  that  the  brute  who  had  been  rid- 
ing him  in  that  situation  deserved  the  halter. 

The  prevailing  feeling,  however,  was  that  of  mirth. 
The  laugh  became  loud  and  general  at  the  old  man's 
expense,  and  rustic  witticisms  were  liberally  be- 
stowed upon  him  and  his  late  purchase.  These 
Blossom  continued  to  provoke  by  various  remarks. 
He  asked  trhe  old  man  "if  he  thought  Bullet  would 
let  five  dollars  lie  on  his  back."  He  declared  most 
seriously  that  he  had  owned  that  horse  three  months, 
and  had  never  discovered  before  that  he  had  a  sore 
back,  *'  or  he  never  should  have  thought  of  trading 
him,"  etc.,  etc. 

The  old  man  bore  it  all  with  the  most  philosophic 
composure.  He  evinced  no  astonishment  at  his  late 
discovery,  and  made  no  replies.  But  his  son  Neddy 
had  not  disciplined  his  feelings  quite  so  well.  His 
eyes  opened  wider  and  wider  from  the  first  to  the 
last  pull  of  the  blanket  ;  and,  when  the  whole  sore 
burst  upon  his  view,  astonishment  and  fright  seemed 
to  contend  for  the  mastery  of  his  countenance.  As 
the  blanket  disappeared,  he  stuck  his  hands  in  his 
breeches  pockets,  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  lapsed 
into  a  profound  reverie,  from  which  he  was  only 
roused  by  the  cuts  at  his  father.  He  bore  them  as 
long  as  he  could  ;  and,  when  he  could  contain  him- 
self no  longer,  he  began,  with  a  certain  wildness  of 
expression  which  gave  a  peculiar  interest  to  what  he 
uttered  :  "  His  back  's  mighty  bad  off ;  but  dod  drot 


30  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

my  soul  if  he  's  put  it  to  daddy  as  bad  as  he  thinks 
he  has,  for  old  Kit 's  both  blind  and  deef,  I  '11  be  dod 
drot  if  he  eint." 

"  The  devil  he  is  ! "  said  Blossom, 

"Yes,  dod  drot  my  soul  if  he  eint.  You  walk  him, 
and  see  if  he  eint.  His  eyes  don't  look  like  it ;  but 
he  'd  jist  as  leve  go  agin  the  house  with  you,  or  in 
a  ditch,  as  anyhow.  Now  you  go  try  him."  The 
laugh  was  now  turned  on  Blossom,  and  many  rushed 
to  test  the  fidelity  of  the  little  boy's  report.  A  few 
experiments  established  its  truth  beyond  contro- 
versy. 

"Neddy,"  said  the  old  man,  "you  ought-n't  to  try 
and  make  people  discontented  with  their  things. 
Stranger,  don't  mind  what  the  Httle  boy  says.  If 
you  can  only  get  Kit  rid  of  them  little  failings^ 
you  '11  find  him  all  sorts  of  a  horse.  You  are  a  leetle 
the  best  man  at  a  horse-swap  that  ever  I  got  hold 
of ;  but  don't  fool  away  Kit.  Come,  Neddy,  my  son, 
let 's  be  moving ;  the  stranger  seems  to  be  getting 
snappish." 

IV. 

THE    MILITIA    DRILL. 

I  happened,  not  long  since,  to  be  present  at  the 
muster  of  a  captain's  company  in  a  remote  part  of 
one  of  the  counties  ;  and  as  no  general  description 
could  convey  an  accurate  idea  of  the  achievements 
of  that  day,  I  must  be  permitted  to  go  a  little  into 
detail,  as  well  as  my  recollection  will  serve  me. 

The  men  had  been  notified  to  meet  at  nine 
o'clock,  "  armed  and  equipped  as  the  law  directs  ; " 
that  is  to  say,  with  a  gun  and  cartridge-box  at  lea»t, 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  3 1 

but,  as  directed  by  the  law  of  the  United  States, 
"  with  a  good  firelock,  a  sufficient  bayonet  and  belt, 
and  a  pouch  with  a  box  to  contain  no  less  than 
twenty-four  sufficient  cartridges  of  powder  and 
ball." 

At  twelve,  about  one  third,  perhaps  one  half,  of 
the  men  had  collected,  and  an  inspector's  return  of 
the  number  present  and  of  their  arms  would  have 
stood  nearly  thus  :  i  captain  ;  i  lieutenant ;  ensign, 
none  ;  fifers,  none  ;  privates  present,  24 ;  ditto  ab- 
sent, 40;  guns,  14;  gunlocks,  12;  ramrods,  10; 
rifle  pouches,  3;  bayonets,  none  ;  belts,  none  ;  spare 
flints,  none;  cartridges,  none;  horsewhips,  walking 
canes,  and  umbrellas,  10.  A  little  before  one,  the 
captain,  whom  I  shall  distinguish  by  the  name  of 
Clodpole,  gave  directions  for  forming  the  line  of 
parade.  In  obedience  to  this  order,  one  of  the 
sergeants,  whose  lungs  had  long  supplied  the  place 
of  a  drum  and  fife,  placed  himself  in  front  of  the 
house,  and  began  to  bawl  with  great  vehemence, 
*'A11  Captain  Clodpole's  company  parade  here! 
Come,  GENTLEMEN,  parade  here  !  "  says  he.  "  All 
you  that  has  n't  got  guns  fall  into  the  lower  ee^id!' 
He  might  have  bawled  till  this  time,  with  as  little 
success  as  the  sirens  sung  to  Ulysses,  had  he  not 
changed  his  post  to  a  neighboring  shade.  There  he 
was  immediately  joined  by  all  who  were  then  at 
leisure;  the  others  were  at  that  time  engaged  as 
parties  or  spectators  at  a  game  of  fives,  and  could 
not  just  then  attend.  However,  in  less  than  half  an 
hour  the  game  was  finished,  and  the  captain  enabled 
to  form  his  company,  and  proceed  in  the  duties  of 
the  day. 

"  Look  to  the  right  and  dress  !  " 


32  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

They  were  soon,  by  the  help  of  the  non-commis- 
sioned officers,  placed  in  a  straight  line  ;  but,  as 
every  man  was  anxious  to  see  how  the  rest  stood, 
those  on  the  wings  pressed  forward  for  that  pur- 
pose, till  the  whole  line  assumed  nearly  the  form  of 
a  crescent. 

"  Why,  look  at  'em  !  "  says  the  captain.  "  Why, 
gentlemen,  you  are  all  a-crooking  in  at  both  eends, 
so  that  you  will  get  on  to  me  by  and  by  !  Come, 
gentlemen,  dress,  dress  I  " 

This  was  accordingly  done  ;  but,  impelled  by  the 
same  motives  as  before,  they  soon  resumed  their 
former  figure,  and  so  they  were  permitted  to  remain. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  says  the  captain,  "  I  am  going 
to  carry  you  through  the  revolutions  of  the  manual 
exercise,  and  I  want  you,  gentlemen,  if  you  please, 
to  pay  particular  attention  to  the  word  of  command, 
just  exactly  as  I  give  it  out  to  you.  I  hope  you  will 
have  a  little  patience,  gentlemen,  if  you  please  ;  and 
if  I  should  be  a-going  wrong,  I  will  be  much  obliged 
to  any  of  you,  gentlemen,  to  put  me  right  again  ;  for 
I  mean  all  for  the  best,  and  I  hope  you  will  excuse 
me,  if  you  please.  And  one  thing,  gentlemen,  I 
caution  you  against  in  particular,  and  that  is  this  : 
not  to  make  any  mistakes,  if  you  can  possibly  help 
it ;  and  the  best  way  to  do  this  will  be  to  do  all  the 
motions  right  at  first,  and  that  will  help  us  to  get 
along  so  much  the  faster,  and  I  will  try  to  have  it 
over  as  soon  as  possible.  Come,  boys,  come  to  a 
shoulder. 

"  Poise,  foolk  1 1 

"  Cock,  foolk  1     Very  handsomely  done. 

1  A  contraction  and  corruption  of  "  firelock."     Thus  :  **  firelock," 
"flock,"  "foolk." 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  53 

"  Take,  aim  ! 

"  Ram  down^  catridge  !  No  !  no  !  Fire  !  I  recol- 
lect now  that  firing  comes  next  after  taking  aim,  ac- 
cording to  Steuben  ;  but,  with  your  permission,  gen- 
tlemen, I  '11  r^^<^  the  words  of  command  just  exactly 
ixS  they  are  printed  in  the  book,  and  then  I  shall  be 
sure  to  be  right." 

*'  Oh,  yes  !  Read  it,  captain,  read  it !  "  exclaimed 
twenty  voices  at  once.      "  That  will  save  time." 

"*Teiition  the  whole!  Please  to  observe,  gentle- 
men, that  at  the  word  '  fire  '  you  must  fire  ;  that  is, 
if  any  of  your  guns  are  loadeiid,  you  must  not  shoot 
\Tv yeaniest,  but  only  make  pretense  like;  and  you, 
gentlemen  fellow-soldiers,  who 's  armed  with  nothing 
but  sticks,  riding-switches,  and  corn-stalks  need  n't 
go  through  the  firings,  but  stand  as  you  are,  and 
keep  yourselves  to  yourselves. 

**  Half  cock,  foolk  !     Very  well  done. 

*'  S-h-e-t  [spelling]  —  Shet,  paji  I  That  too  would 
have  been  handsomely  done,  if  you  had  n't  handled 
catridge  instead  of  shetting  pan  ;  but  I  suppose  you 
was  n't  noticing.  Now  'tention,  one  and  all,  gentle- 
men, and  do  that  motion  again. 

"  Shet,  pail  I  Very  good,  very  well  indeed  ;  you 
did  that  motion  equal  to  any  old  soldier  ;  you  im- 
prove astonishingly. 

^'Handle,  catridge!  Pretty  well,  considering  you 
done  it  wrong  end  foremost,  as  if  you  took  the  cat- 
ridge out  of  your  mouth,  and  bit  off  the  twist  with 
the  catridge-box. 

**  Draw,  rammer  !  Those  who  have  no  rammers 
to  their  guns  need  not  draw,  but  only  make  the  mo- 
tion ;  it  will  do  just  as  well,  and  save  a  great  deal  of 
time. 

3 


34  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

''  Reticrn,  rammer !  Very  well  again.  But  that 
would  have  been  done,  I  think,  with  greater  expert- 
ness  if  you  had  performed  the  motion  with  a  Uttle 
more  dexterity. 

"  S-h-o-ti-l —  Shoulder,  foolk  !  Very  handsomely 
done  indeed  !  Put  your  guns  on  the  other  shoulder, 
gentlemen. 

"  Order,  foolk  !  Not  quite  so  well,  gentlemen  ;  hot 
quite  all  together.  But  perhaps  I  did  not  speak  loud 
enough  for  you  to  hear  me  all  at  once.  Try  once 
more,  if  you  please.  I  hope  you  will  be  patient,  gen- 
tlemen ;  we  will  soon  be  through. 

"  Order,  foolk  !  Handsomely  done,  gentlemen, — 
very  handsomely  done  !  and  all  together,  too,  except 
that  one  half  of  you  were  a  leetle  too  soon,  and  the 
other  half  a  leetle  too  late. 

"  In  laying  down  your  guns,  2:entlemen,  take  care 
to  lay  the  locks  up  and  the  other  side  down. 

"  *  Tention  the  zvhole  !    Ground,  foolk  I    Very  well. 

*'  Charge,  bayonet  !  " 

{Some  of  the  men)  "  That  can't  be,  captain  :  pray 
look  again  ;  for  how  can  we  charge  bayonet  without 
our  guns  }  " 

[Captain)  ''  I  don't  know  as  to  that,  but  I  know  I  'm 
right,  for  here  't  is  printed  in  the  book :  c-h-a-r — 
yes,  charge  bayonet,  that 's  right,  that 's  the  word, 
if  I  know  how  to  read.  Come,  gentlemen,  do  pray 
charge  bayonet !  Charge,  I  say  !  Why  don't  you 
charge  ?  Do  you  think  it  ain't  so  ?  Do  you  think 
I  have  lived  to  this  time  o'  day,  and  don't  know 
what  charge  bayonet  is  }  Here,  come  here  ;  you 
may  see  for  yourselves  ;  it 's  as  plain  as  the  nose 
on  your  fa —  Stop  —  stay  —  no  —  halt  !  no  !  Faith, 
I  'm  wrong  !  I  turned  over  two  leaves  at  once.    I  beg 


GEORGIA   SCENES. 


35 


your  pardon  ;  we  will  not  stay  out  iongy  and  we  '11 
have  something  to  drink  as  soon  as  we  have  done. 
Come,  boys,  get  off  the  stumps  and  logs,  and  take 
up  your  guns  ;  we  '11  soon  be  done.  Excuse  me,  if 
you  please. 

''  Fix,  bayonet  ! 

''Advance,  arms  !  Very  well  done.  Turn  the  stocks 
of  your  guns  in  front,  gentlemen,  and  that  will  bring 
the  barrels  behind  ;  hold  them  straight  up  and  down, 
if  you  please ;  let  go  with  your  left,  and  take  hold 
with  your  right  hand  below  the  guard.  Steuben  says 
the  gun  should  be  held  p-e-r —  perticlar ;  yes,  you 
must  always  mind  and  hold  your  guns  very  pertic'lar. 
Now,  boys,  'tention  the  whole ! 

^' Present,  arms  !  Very  handsomely  done  !  Only 
hold  your  gun  over  t'  other  knee  —  t'  other  hand  up 
—  turn  your  hands  round  a  little,  and  raise  them  up 
higher  —  draw  t'  other  foot  back  —  now  you  are 
nearly  right  —  very  well  done. 

"  Gentlemen,  we  come  now  to  the  revohitio7is. 
Men,  you  have  all  got  into  a  sort  of  snarl,  as  I  may 
say ;  how  did  you  all  get  into  such  a  higglety-pig- 
glety .? " 

The  fact  was,  the  shade  had  moved  considerably 
to  the  eastward,  and  had  exposed  the  right  wing  of 
these  hardy  veterans  to  a  galling  fire  of  the  sun. 
Being  poorly  provided  with  umbrellas  at  this  end 
of  the  line,  they  found  it  convenient  to  follow  the 
shade  ;  and  in  huddling  to  the  left  for  this  purpose, 
they  changed  the  figure  of  their  line  from  that  of 
a  crescent  to  one  which  more  nearly  resembled  a 
pair  of  pothooks. 

**  Come,  gentlemen,"  says  the  captain,  "spread 
yourselves  out  again  into  a  straight  line  ;  and  let  us 


36  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

get  into  the  wheelings  and  other  matters  as  soon  as 
possible." 

But  this  was  strenuously  opposed  by  the  soldiers. 
They  objected  to  going  into  the  reiwhitioiis  at  all,  in- 
asmuch as  the  weather  was  extremely  hot,  and  they 
had  already  been  kept  in  the  field  upwards  of  three 
quarters  of  an  hour.  They  reminded  the  captain  of 
his  repeated  promise  to  be  as  short  as  he  possibly 
could,  and  it  was  clear  he  could  dispense  with  all 
this  wheeHng  and  flourishing  if  he  chose.  They 
were  already  very  thirsty,  and  if  he  would  not  dis- 
miss them  they  declared  they  would  go  off  without 
dismission,  and  get  something  to  drink,  and  he  might 
fine  them,  if  that  would  do  him  any  good  ;  they  were 
able  to  pay  their  fine,  but  would  not  go  without  drink 
to  please  anybody  ;  and  they  swore  they  would  never 
vote  for  another  captain  who  wished  to  be  so  unrea- 
sonably strict. 

The  captain  behaved  with  great  spirit  upon  the 
occasion,  and  a  smart  colloquy  ensued  ;  when  at 
length  becoming  exasperated  to  the  last  degree,  he 
roundly  asserted  that  no  soldier  ought  ever  to  tJiiiik 
hardoi  the  orders  of  his  officer  ;  and,  finally,  he  went 
so  far  as  to  say  that  he  did  not  think  any  gentleman 
on  that  ground  had  any  just  cause  to  be  offended 
with  him.  The  dispute  was  finally  settled  by  the 
captain  sending  for  some  grog  for  their  present  ac- 
commodation, and  agreeing  to  omit  reading  the  mil- 
itary law  and  the  performance  of  all  the  manoeuvres, 
except  two  or  three  such  easy  and  simple  ones  as 
could  be  performed  within  the  compass  of  the  shade. 
After  they  had  drank  their  grog  and  had  ''spread 
themselves,"  they  were  divided  into  platoons. 


**'Tention  the  whole  !     To  the  right  wheel ! 


n 


GEORGIA   SCENES.  37 

Each  man  faced  to  the  right  about. 

**  Why,  gentlemen,  I  did  not  mean  for  every  man 
to  stand  still  and  turn  himself  ;^«'trally  right  round  ; 
but  when  I  told  you  to  wheel  to  the  right,  I  intended 
you  to  wheel  round  to  the  right,  as  it  were.  Please 
to  try  again,  gentlemen  ;  every  right-hand  man  must 
stand  fast,  and  only  the  others  turn  round." 

In  the  previous  part  of  the  exercise,  it  had,  for  the 
purpose  of  sizing,  been  necessary  to  denominate 
every  second  person  a  "  right-hand  man."  A  very 
natural  consequence  w^as  that,  on  the  present  occa- 
sion, these  right-hand  men  maintained  their  position, 
all  the  intermediate  ones  facing  about  as  before. 

"  Why,  look  at  'em,  now  !  "  exclaimed  the  captain, 
in  extreme  vexation.  "  I  '11  be  d — d  if  you  understand 
a  word  I  say.  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,  it  rayly  seems 
as  if  you  could  not  come  at  it  exactly.  In  wheeling 
to  the  right,  the  right-hand  eend  of  the  platoon 
stands  fast,  and  the  other  ee7id  comes  round  like  a 
swingle-tree.  Those  on  the  outside  must  march 
faster  than  those  on  the  inside.  You  certainly  must 
understand  me  now,  gentlemen  ;  and  please  to  try  it 
once  more," 

In  this  they  were  a  little  more  successful. 

"  '  Tention  the  whole  !  To  the  left  —  left,  no  — 
7'ight  —  tJiat  is,  the  left  — ■  /  mean  the  right  —  lefty 
wheel,  march  !'' 

In  this  he  was  strictly  obeyed  ;  some  wheeling  to 
the  right,  some  to  the  left,  and  some  to  the  right- 
left,  or  both  ways. 

"  Stop  !  halt  I  Let  us  try  it  again  !  I  could  not 
just  then  tell  my  right  hand  from  my  left !  You 
must  excuse  me,  if  you  please  ;  experience  makes 
perfect,  as  the  saying  is.     Long  as  I  have  served,  I 


38  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

find  something  new  to  learn  every  day  ;  but  all 's 
one  for  that.  Now,  gentlemen,  do  that  motion  once 
more." 

By  the  help  of  a  non-commissioned  officer  in  front 
of  each  platoon,  they  wheeled  this  time  with  consid- 
erable regularity. 

*'  Now,  boys,  you  must  try  to  wheel  by  divisions  ; 
and  there  is  one  thing  in  particular  which  I  have  to 
request  of  you,  gentlemen,  and  that  is  not  to  make 
any  blunder  in  your  wheeling.  You  must  mind  and 
keep  at  a  wheeling  distance,  and  not  talk  in  the 
ranks,  nor  get  out  of  fix  again ;  for  I  want  you  to 
do  this  motion  well,  and  not  to  make  any  blunder 
now. 

**  '  Tentioii  the  whole  !  By  divisions^  to  the  right 
wheel,  march  !  " 

In  doing  this  it  seemed  as  if  Bedlam  had  broke 
loose  :  every  man  took  the  command.  Not  so  fast 
on  the  right !  Slow  now  !  Haul  down  those  um- 
brellas !  Faster  on  the  left  !  Keep  back  a  little 
there  !    Don't  scroiige  so  !    Hold  up  your  gun,  Sam  ! 

Go  faster  there!  faster!     Who  trod   on  my .-* 

D — n  your  huffs  !  Keep  back !  Stop  us,  captain, 
do  stop  us  !  Go  faster  there  !  I  've  lost  my  shoe  ! 
Get  up  again,  Ned  !  Halt  !  halt !  halt  !  Stop,  gen- 
tlemen !  stop  !  stop  I 

By  this  time  they  had  got  into  uttei  and  inextri- 
cable confusion,  and  so  I  left  them. 


SIMON   SUGGS. 


Johnson  J.  Hooper,  the  author  of  "  Simon  Suggs,"  was  a  native 
of  North  Carolina,  who  removed  when  a  young  man  to  Alabanaa, 
where  he  led  a  variously  successful  career  as  a  whig  journalist.  In 
this  line,  his  most  successful  venture  was  the  "  Montgomery  Mail," 
which  he  edited  with  spirit  for  a  number  of  years,  and  to  which  he 
gave  a  national  reputation.  He  died  toward  the  close  of  the  sec- 
tional war  at  Richmond,  Va.,  being  at  the  time  secretary  to  the  Con- 
federate Senate. 

Mr.  Hooper  was  a  most  genial  and  entertaining  person,  and  the 
central  figure  of  a  brilliant  coterie  of  writers  and  speakers.  Of 
these,  S.  S.  Prentiss  and  George  D.  Prentice  were  the  most  con- 
spicuous ;  and  they  always  regarded  him  and  spoke  of  him  as  theii 
peer.  He  was  not,  in  public  life,  so  aggressive  as  they,  and  there- 
fore he  failed  to  leave  so  deep  a  personal  impress  upon  his  time. 
But  he  had  both  sense  and  wit,  and  was  very  effective  in  the  party 
campaigns  of  the  period. 

His  "  History  of  the  Life  and  Adventures  of  Captain  Simon  Suggs, 
of  the  Tallapoosa  Volunteers,"  may  be,  and  indeed  it  is,  but  a 
charcoal  sketch.  Yet,  in  its  way,  it  is  a  masterpiece.  No  one  who 
is  at  all  familiar  with  the  provincial  life  of  the  South  can  fail  to 
recognize  the  "  points  "  of  this  sharp  and  vulgar,  sunny  and  venal 
swash-buckler.  As  serio-comic  as  Sellers,  as  grotesque  as  Shingle, 
he  possesses  an  originality  all  his  own,  and  never  for  a  moment 
rises  above  or  falls  below  it.  He  is  a  gambler  by  nature,  by  habit, 
by  preference,  by  occupation.  Without  a  virtue  in  the  world,  ex- 
cept his  good  humor  and  his  self-possession,  there  is  something  in 
his  vices,  his  indolence,  his  swagger,  his  rogueries,  which,  in  spite  of 
the  worthlessness  of  the  man  and  the  dishonesty  of  his  practices, 
detains  and  amuses  us.  Pie  is  a  representative  character,  the  Sam 
Slick  of  the  South  ;  only,  I  should  say,  the  Sam  Slick  of  Judge 
Haliburton  is  not  nearly  so  true  to  nature,  so  graphic,  or  so  pic- 
turesque. 

It  has  often  been  stated  that  Simon  was  taken  from  a  real  per- 
sonage by  the  name  of  Bird,  and  the  story  goes  that  this  individual 


40  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

did  on  a  certain  occasion  call  Mr.  Hooper  to  account  for  making 
too  free  with  his  lineaments  and  practices.  It  may  be  so  ;  but  the 
likelihood  is  that  the  author  in  this  instance  followed  the  example 
of  other  writers  of  fiction,  and  drew  his  hero  from  many  scraps  and 
odd  ends  of  individual  character  to  be  encountered  at  the  time  in  the 
county  towns  and  upon  the  rural  highways  of  the  South.  At  all 
events,  Simon  has  survived  the  ephemeral  creations  of  contemporary 
humor,  and  is  as  fresh  and  lively  to-day  as  he  was  five  and  thirty 
years  ago. 

In  the  examples  here  given,  continuity  was  out  of  the  question, 
and  I  have  confined  the  selections  made  to  such  as  seemed  to  do 
Captain  Suggs  the  fullest  justice 


I. 

SIMON    STARTS    IN   THE   WORLD. 

Until  Simon  entered  his  seventeenth  year,  he 
lived  with  his  father,  an  old  "  hard  shell "  Baptist 
preacher,  who,  though  very  pious  and  remarkably 
austere,  was  very  avaricious.  The  old  man  reared 
his  boys  —  or  endeavored  to  do  so — according  to 
the  strictest  requisitions  of  the  moral  law.  But  he 
lived,  at  the  time  to  which  we  refer,  in  Middle 
Georgia,  which  was  then  newly  settled  ;  and  Simon, 
whose  wits  were  always  too  sharp  for  his  father's, 
contrived  to  contract  all  the  coarse  vices  incident 
to  such  a  region.  He  stole  his  mother's  roosters  to 
fight  them  at  Bob  Smith's  grocery,  and  his  father's 
plow-horses  to  enter  them  in  "  quarter "  matches 
at  the  same  place.  He  pitched  dollars  with  Bob 
Smith  himself,  and  could  "  beat  him  into  doll  rags  " 
whenever  it  came  to  a  measurement.  To  crown  his 
accomplishments,  Simon  was  tip-top  at  the  game  of 
"  old  sledge,"  which  was  the  fashionable  game  of 
that  era,  and  was  early  initiated  in  the  mysteries 
of  "  stocking   the  papers."      The  vicious  habits  of 


SIMON  SUGGS.  41 

Simon  were,  of  course,  a  sore  trouble  to  his  father, 
Elder  Jedediah.  He  reasoned,  he  counseled,  he  re- 
monstrated, and  he  lashed  ;  but  Simon  was  an  in- 
corrigible, irreclaimable  devil.  One  day  the  simple- 
minded  old  man  returned  rather  unexpectedly  to 
the  field,  where  he  had  left  Simon  and  Ben  and  a 
negro  boy  named  Bill  at  work.  Ben  was  still  fol- 
lowing his  plow,  but  Simon  and  Bill  were  in  a 
fence  corner,  very  earnestly  engaged  at  "  seven  up." 
Of  course  the  game  was  instantly  suspended  as 
soon  as  they  spied  the  old  man,  sixty  or  seventy 
yards  off,  striding  towards  them. 

It  was  evidently  a  "  gone  case  "  with  Simon  and 
Bill  ;  but  our  hero  determined  to  make  the  best  of 
it.  Putting  the  cards  into  one  pocket,  he  coolly 
picked  up  the  small  coins  which  constituted  the 
stake,  and  fobbed  them  in  the  other,  remarking, 
"  Well,  Bill,  this  game 's  blocked  ;  we  'd  as  well 
quit." 

"  But,  mass  Simon,"  remarked  the  boy,  "  half  dat 
money  's  mine.  Ain't  you  gwine  to  lemme  hab 
'em  •>  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  the  money.  Bill  ;  the  old  man  's 
going  to  take  the  bark  off  both  of  us  ;  and  besides, 
with  the  hand  I  belt  when  we  quit,  I  should  'a  beat 
you  and  won  it  all,  any  way." 

"  Well,  but  mass  Simon,  we  nebber  finish  de 
game,  and  de  rule  "  — 

**  Go  to  the  devil  with  your  rule  !  "  said  the  im- 
patient Simon.  "  Don't  you  see  daddy  's  right  down 
upon  us,  with  an  armful  of  hickories  }  I  tell  you, 
I  belt  nothin'  but  trumps,  and  could  'a'  beat  the 
horns  off  of  a  billy-goat.  Don't  that  satisfy  you  ? 
Somehow  or  another,  you  're  d — d  hard  to  please  !  " 


42  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

About  this  time  a  thought  struck  Simon,  and  in  a 
low  tone  —  for  by  this  time  the  Reverend  Jedediah 
was  close  at  hand  —  he  continued,  ''  But  may  be 
daddy  don't  know,  rigJit  down  stire,  what  we  've 
been  doin'.  Let's  try  him  with  a  lie,  —  't  won't 
hurt,  noway  :  let  's  tell  him  we  've  been  playin' 
mumble-peg." 

Bill  was  perforce  compelled  to  submit  to  this  in- 
equitable adjustment  of  his  claim  to  a  share  of  the 
stakes  ;  and  of  course  agreed  to  swear  to  the  game 
of  mumble-peg.  All  this  was  settled,  and  a  peg 
driven  into  the  ground,  slyly  and  hurriedly,  between 
Simon's  legs  as  he  sat  on  the  ground,  just  as  the 
old  man  reached  the  spot.  He  carried  under  his 
left  arm  several  neatly-trimmed  sprouts  of  formi- 
dable length,  while  in  his  left  hand  he  held  one 
which  he  was  intently  engaged  in  divesting  of  its 
superfluous  twigs. 

"  Soho,  youngsters  !  — you  in  the  fence  corner, 
and  the  crap  in  the  grass.  What  saith  the  Scriptur', 
Simon .?  '  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,'  and  so 
forth  and  so  on.  What  in  the  round  creation  of  the 
yeath  have  you  and  that  nigger  been  a-doin'  .?  " 

Bill  shook  with  fear,  but  Simon  was  cool  as  a 
cucumber,  and  answered  his  father  to  the  effect  that 
they  had  been  wasting  a  little  time  in  the  game  of 
mumble-peg. 

"  Mumble-peg  !  mumble-peg  !  "  repeated  old  Mr. 

Suggs.     "  What  's  that  >  " 

Simon  explained  the  process  of  rooting  for  the 
peg  :  how  the  operator  got  upon  his  knees,  keeping 
his  arms  stiff  by  his  sides,  leaned  forward,  and  ex- 
tracted the  peg  with  his  teeth. 

"  So  you  git  iipon  your  kiiees,  do  you,  to  pull  up 


"  With  a  loud  yell,  Bill  plunged  forward."     See  page  43. 


SIMON  SUGGS.  43 

that  nasty  little  stick  !  You  'd  better  git  upon  'em 
to  ask  mercy  for  your  sinful  souls  and  for  a  dyin' 
world.  But  let 's  see  one  o'  you  git  the  peg  up  now." 
The  first  impulse  of  our  hero  was  to  volunteer  to 
gratify  the  curiosity  of  his  worthy  sire,  but  a  glance 
at  the  old  man's  countenance  changed  his  "  notion," 
and  he  remarked  that  "  Bill  was  a  long  ways  the  best 
hand."  Bill,  who  did  not  deem  Simon's  modesty  an 
omen  very  favorable  to  himself,  was  inclined  to  re- 
ciprocate compliments  with  his  young  master  ;  but 
a  gesture  of  impatience  from  the  old  man  set  him 
instantly  upon  his  knees,  and,  bending  forward,  he 
essayed  to  lay  hold  with  his  teeth  of  the  peg,  which 
Simon,  just  at  that  moment,  very  wickedly  pushed  a 
half  inch  further  down.  Just  as  the  breeches  and 
hide  of  the  boy  were  stretched  to  the  uttermost,  old 
Mr.  Suggs  brought  down  his  longest  hickory,  with 
both  hands,  upon  the  precise  spot  where  the  tension 
was  greatest.  With  a  loud  yell.  Bill  plunged  for- 
ward, upsetting  Simon,  and  rolled  in  the  grass,  rub- 
bing the  castigated  part  with  fearful  energy.  Simon, 
though  overthrown,  was  unhurt  ;  and  he  was  men- 
tally complimenting  himself  upon  the  sagacity  which 
had  prevented  his  illustrating  the  game  of  mumble- 
peg  for  the  paternal  amusement,  when  his  attention 
was  arrested  by  the  old  man's  stooping  to  pick  up 
something  —  what  is  it.-*  —  a  card  upon  which  Si- 
mon had  been  sitting,  and  which,  therefore,  had  not 
gone  with  the  rest  of  the  pack  into  his  pocket. 
The  simple  Mr.  Suggs  had  only  a  vague  idea  of  the 
pasteboard  abomination  called  cards ;  and  though 
he  decidedly  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  this  was 
one,  he  was  by  no  means  certain  of  the  fact.  Had 
Simon  known  this  he  would  certainly  have  escaped  ; 


44  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

but  he  did  not.  His  father,  assuming  the  look  of 
extreme  sapiency  which  is  always  worn  by  the  in- 
terrogator who  does  not  desire  or  expect  to  increase 
his  knowledge  by  his  questions,  asked,  — 

"  What 's  this,  Simon  ?  " 

"  The  Jack-a-dimunts,"  promptly  responded  Si- 
mon, who  gave  up  all  as  lost  after  \)l{\^  faux  pas. 

"  What  was  it  doin'  down  thar,  Simon,  my  sonny  ?  " 
continued  Mr.  Suggs,  in  an  ironically  affectionate 
tone  of  voice. 

"  I  had  it  under  my  leg,  thar,  to  make  it  on  Bill, 
the  first  time  it  come  trumps,"  was  the  ready  reply. 

''What's  trumps  .?"  asked  Mr.  Suggs,  with  a  view 
of  arriving  at  the  import  of  the  word. 

"  Nothin'  ain't  trumps  7ww','  said  Simon,  who 
misapprehended  his  father's  meaning,  *'  but  clubs 
was,  when  you  come  along  and  busted  up  the  game." 

A  part  of  this  answer  was  Greek  to  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Suggs,  but  a  portion  of  it  was  full  of  meaning. 
They  had,  then,  most  unquestionably,  been  "  throw- 
ing" cards,  the  scoundrels!  the  ''oudacious"  little 
hellions  ! 

*'To  the  '  mulberry  '  with  both  on  ye,  in  a  hurry," 
said  the  old  man  sternly.  But  the  lads  were  not  dis- 
posed to  be  in  a  *'  hurry,"  for  the  "  mulberry  "  was 
the  scene  of  all  formal  punishment  administered 
durino:  work  hours  in  the  field.  Simon  followed  his 
father,  however,  but  made,  as  he  went  along,  all 
manner  of  ''  faces  "  at  the  old  man's  back  ;  gesticu- 
lated as  if  he  were  going  to  strike  him  between  the 
shoulders  with  his  fists,  and  kicking  at  him  so  as 
almost  to  touch  his  coat  tail  with  his  shoe.  In  this 
style  they  walked  on  to  the  mulberry-tree,  in  whose 
shade  Simon's  brother  Ben  was  resting. 


SIMON  SUGGS.  45 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that,  during  the  walk  to 
the  place  of  punishment,  Simon's  mind  was  either 
inactive,  or  engaged  in  suggesting  the  grimaces  and 
contortions  wherewith  he  was  pantomimically  ex- 
pressing his  irreverent  sentiments  toward  his  father. 
Far  from  it.  The  movements  of  his  limbs  and  fea- 
tures were  the  mere  workings  of  habit  —  the  self- 
grinding  of  the  corporeal  machine  —  for  which  his 
reasoning  half  was  only  remotely  responsible.  For 
while  Simon's  person  was  thus,  on  its  own  account, 
''  making  game  "  of  old  Jed'diah,  his  wits,  in  view 
of  the  anticipated  flogging,  were  dashing,  springing, 
bounding,  darting  about,  in  hot  chase  of  some  expe- 
dient suitable  to  the  necessities  of  the  case  ;  much 
after  the  manner  in  which  puss  —  when  Betty,  armed 
with  the  broom,  and  hotly  seeking  vengeance  for 
pantry  robbed  or  bed  defiled,  has  closed  upon  her 
the  garret  doors  and  windows  —  attempts  all  sorts 
of  impossible  exits,  to  come  down  at  last  in  the  cor- 
ner, with  panting  side  and  glaring  eye,  exhausted 
and  defenseless.  Our  unfortunate  hero  could  de- 
vise nothing  by  which  he  could  reasonably  expect 
to  escape  the  heavy  blows  of  his  father.  Having 
arrived  at  this  conclusion  and  the  *'  mulberry " 
about  the  same  time,  he  stood  with  a  dogged  look, 
awaiting  the  issue. 

The  old  man  Suggs  made  no  remark  to  any  one 
while  he  was  seizing  up  Bill,  —  a  process  which, 
though  by  no  means  novel  to  Simon,  seemed  to  ex- 
cite in  him  a  sort  of  painful  interest.  He  watched 
it  closely,  as  if  endeavoring  to  learn  the  precise 
fashion  of  his  father's  knot  ;  and  when  at  last  Bill 
was  swung  up  a-tiptoe  to  a  limb,  and  the  whipping 
commenced,  Simon's  eye  followed  every  movement 


46  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  II FE. 

of  his  father's  arm  ;  and  as  each  blow  descended 
upon  the  bare  shoulders  of  his  sable  friend,  his  own 
body  writhed  and  "  wriggled  "  in  involuntary  sym- 
pathy. 

'*  It 's  the  devil,  it  is,"  said  Simon  to  himself, 
"  to  take  such  a  wallopin'  as  that.  Why,  the  old 
man  looks  like  he  wants  to  git  to  the  holler,  if  he 
could,  —  rot  his  old  picter  !  It 's  wuth,  at  the  least, 
fifty  cents  —  je-e-miny,  how  that  hurt! — yes,  it 's 
wuth  three-quarters  of  a  dollar  to  take  that  'ere 
lickin'  !  Wonder  if  I  'm  '  predestinated,'  as  old 
Jed'diah  says,  to  git  the  feller  to  it  ?  Lord,  how 
daddy  blows !  I  do  wish  to  God  he  'd  bust  wide 
open,  the  durned  old  deer-face  !  If  't  wa'n't  for  Ben 
helpin'  him,  I  b'lieve  I  'd  give  the  old  dog  a  tus- 
sel  when  it  comes  to  my  turn.  It  could  n't  make 
the  thing  no  wuss,  if  it  did  n't  make  it  no  better. 
'Drot  it !  what  do  boys  have  daddies  for,  anyhow } 
'T  ain't  for  nuthin'  but  jist  to  beat  'em  and  work 
*em.  There  's  some  use  in  mammies.  I  kin  poke 
my  finger  right  in  the  old  'oman's  eye,  and  keep  it 
thar  ;  and  if  I  say  it  ain't  thar,  she  '11  say  so,  too.  I 
wish  she  was  here  to  hold  daddy  off.  If  't  wa'n't  so 
fur  I'd  holler  for  her,  anyhow.  How  she  would 
cling  to  the  old  fellow's  coat  tail ! " 

Mr.  Jedediah  Suggs  let  down  Bill  and  untied  him. 
Approaching  Simon,  whose  coat  was  off,  '*  Come, 
Simon,  son,"  said  he,  "  cross  them  hands  ;  I  'm  gwine 
to  correct  you." 

"  It  ain't  no  use,  daddy,"  said  Simon. 

"Why  so,  Simon.?" 

"  Jist  bekase  it  ain't.  I  'm  gwine  to  play  cards 
as  long  as  I  live.  When  I  go  off  to  myself,  I  'm 
gwine  to  make  my  livin'  by  it.  So  what 's  the  use 
uf  beatin'  me  about  i^.  '*  " 


<a± 


SIMON  SUGGS.  47 

Old  Mr.  Suggs  groaned,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  in 
the  pulpit,  at  this  display  of  Simonis  viciousness. 

*'  Simon,"  said  he,  "  you  're  a  poor  ignunt  creetur. 
You  don't  know  nuthin',  and  you  've  never  bin  no- 
whars.  If  I  was  to  turn  you  off,  you  'd  starve  in  a 
week  "  — 

*'  I  wish  you  'd  try  me,"  said  Simon,  "  and  jist  see. 
I  'd  win  more  money  in  a  week  than  you  can  make 
in  a  year.  There  ain't  nobody  round  here  kin  make 
seed  corn  off  o'  me  at  cards.  I  'm  rale  smart,"  he 
added,  with  great  emphasis. 

"  Simon  !  Simon  !  you  poor  unlettered  fool.  Don't 
you  know  that  all  card-players  and  chicken-fighters 
and  horse-racers  go  to  hell  }  You  crack-brained 
creetur,  you  !  And  don't  you  know  that  them  that 
plays  cards  always  loses  their  money,  and  "  — 

"  Who  wins  it  all,  then,  daddy  }  "  asked  Simon. 

"  Shet  your  mouth,  you  imperdent,  slack-jawed 
dog  !  Your  daddy 's  a-tryin'  to  give  you  some  good 
advice,  and  you  a-pickin'  up  his  words  that  way.  I 
knowed  a  young  man  once,  when  I  lived  in  Ogle- 
tharp,  as  went  down  to  Augusty  and  sold  a  hundred 
dollars'  worth  of  cotton  for  his  daddy,  and  some  o' 
them  gambollers  got  him  to  drinkin',  and  the  very 
first  night  he  was  with  'em  they  got  every  cent  of 
his  money." 

"  They  could  n't  get  my  money  in  a  week''  said 
Simon.  "Anybody  can  git  these  here  green  feller's 
money  ;  them  's  the  sort  I  'm  a-gwine  to  watch  for 
myself.  Here  's  what  kin  fix  the  papers  jist  about 
as  nice  as  anybody." 

"  Well,  it 's  no  use  to  argify  about  the  matter," 
said  old-Jed'diah.  "  What  saith  the  Scriptur'  }  '  He 
that  begetteth  a  fool,  doeth  it  to  his  sorrow.'    Hence. 


48  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Simon,  you  're  a  poor,  misubble  fool,  —  so  cross  youi 
hands !  " 

"You'd  jist  as  well  not,  daddy  ;  I  tell  you  I'm 
gwine  to  follow  playin'  cards  for  a  livin',  and  what 's 
the  use  o'  bangin'  a  feller  about  it  ?  I  'm  as  smart 
as  any  of  'em,  and  Bob  Smith  says  them  Augusty 
fellers  can't  make  rent  off  o'  me." 

The  reverend  Mr.  Suggs  had  once  in  his  life  gone 
to  Augusta  ;  an  extent  of  travel  which  in  those  days 
was  a  little  unusual.  His  consideration  among  his 
neighbors  was  considerably  increased  by  the  circum- 
stance, as  he  had  all  the  benefit  of  the  popular 
inference  that  no  man  could  visit  the  city  of  Augusta 
without  acquiring  a  vast  superiority  over  all  his  un- 
traveled  neighbors,  in  every  department  of  human 
knowledge.  Mr.  Suggs,  then,  very  naturally,  felt 
ineffably  indignant  that  an  individual  who  had  never 
seen  any  collection  of  human  habitations  larger  than 
a  log-house  village  —  an  individual,  in  short,  no  other 
or  better  than  Bob  Smith  —  should  venture  to  express 
an  opinion  concerning  the  manners,  customs,  or  any- 
thing else  appertaining  to,  or  in  any  wise  connected 
with,  the  ultima  T/mle  of  backwoods  Georgians. 
There  were  two  propositions  which  witnessed  their 
own  truth  to  the  mind  of  Mr.  Suggs  :  the  one  was 
that  a  man  who  had  never  been  at  Augusta  could 
not  know  anything  about  that  city,  or  any  place,  or 
anything  else  ;  the  other,  that  one  who  had  been 
there  must,  of  necessity,  be  not  only  well  informed 
as  to  all  things  connected  with  the  city  itself,  but 
perfectly  au  fait  upon  all  subjects  whatsoever.  It 
was  therefore  in  a  tone  of  mingled  indignation  and 
contempt  that  he  replied  to  the  last  remark  of  Simon. 

"  Bob   Smith   says,    does    he  .-*     And  who 's   Boh 


SIMON  SUGGS.  49 

Smith?  Much  does  Bob  Smith  know  about  Au- 
gusty  !  He  's  been  thar,  I  reckon  !  Slipped  off  yerly 
some  mornin',  when  nobody  warn't  noticin',  and  got 
back  afore  night  !  It 's  07ily  a  hundred  and  fifty  mile. 
Oh,  yes,  Bob  Smith  knows  all  about  it !  /  don't 
know  nothin'  about  it !  /  ain't  never  been  to  Au- 
gusty  —  /could  n't  find  the  road  thar,  I  reckon  —  ha, 
ha  !  Bob  —  Smi-th  I  If  he  was  only  to  see  one  o' 
them  fine  gentlemen  in  Augusty,  with  his  fine  broad- 
cloth, and  bell-crown  hat,  and  shoe-boots  a-shinin' 
like  silver,  he'd  take  to  the  woods  and  kill  himself 
a-runnin'.  Bob  Smith  !  that 's  whar  all  your  devil- 
ment comes  from,  Simon." 

"  Bob  Smith  's  as  good  as  anybody  else,  I  judge  ; 
and  a  heap  smarter  than  some.  He  showed  me  how 
to  cut  Jack,"  continued  Simon,  *'  and  that 's  more 
nor  some  people  can  do,  if  they  have  been  to  Au- 
gusty." 

"  If  Bob  Smith  kin  do  it,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I 
kin,  too.  I  don't  know  it  by  that  name  ;  but  if  it  *s 
book  knowledge  or  plain  sense,  and  Bob  kin  do  it, 
it's  reasonable  to  s'pose  that  old  Jed'diah  Suggs 
won't  be  bothered  bad.  Is  it  any  ways  similyar  to 
the  rule  of  three,  Simon  }  " 

"  Pretty  similyar,  daddy,  but  not  adzactly,"  said 
Simon,  drawing  a  pack  from  his  pocket,  to  explain. 
**  Now,  daddy,"  he  proceeded,  "you  see  these  here 
four  cards  is  what  we  calls  the  Jacks.  Well,  now, 
the  idee  is,  if  you'll  take  the  pack  and  mix  'em  all 
up  together,  I  '11  take  off  a  passel  from  top,  and  the 
bottom  one  of  them  I  take  off  will  be  one  of  the 
Jacks." 

"  Me  to  mix  'em  fust  .'*  "  said  old  Jed'diah. 

"Yes." 


50  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

**  And  you  not  to  see  but  the  back  of  the  top  one, 
when  you  go  to  *  cut,'  as  you  call  it  ? " 

"Jist  so,  daddy." 

**  And  the  backs  all  jist  as  like  as  kin  be?"  said 
the  senior  Suggs,  examining  the  cards. 

"  More  alike  nor  cow-peas,"  said  Simon. 

"  It  can't  be  done,  Simon,"  observed  the  old  man, 
with  great  solemnity. 

"  Bob  Smith  kin  do  it,  and  so  kin  I." 

"  It 's  agin  nater,  Simon  ;  thar  ain't  a  man  in  Au- 
gusty,  nor  on  top  of  the  yeath,  that  kin  do  it  !  " 

**  Daddy,"  said  our  hero,  "  ef  you  '11  bet  me  "  — 

"  What  !  "  thundered  old  Mr.  Suggs.  *'  Bet,  did 
you  say  } "  and  he  came  down  with  a  scorer  across 
Simon's  shoulders.  '*  Me,  Jed'diah  Suggs,  that 's 
been  in  the  Lord's  sarvice  these  twenty  years,  — 
me  bet,  you  nasty,  sassy,  triflin',  ugly"  — 

"  I  did  n't  go  to  say  that,  daddy  ;  that  warn't  what 
I  meant  adzactly.  I  went  to  say  that  ef  you  'd  let 
me  off  from  this  here  maulin'  you  owe  me,  and  give 
me  '  Bunch,'  ef  I  cut  Jack,  I  'd  give  yon  all  this  here 
silver,  ef  I  did  n't,  —  that 's  all.  To  be  sure,  I  allers 
knowed  you  would  n't  bet!' 

Old  Mr.  Suggs  ascertained  the  exact  amount  of 
the  silver  which  his  son  handed  him,  in  an  old 
leathern  pouch,  for  inspection.  He  also,  mentally, 
compared  that  sum  with  an  imaginary  one,  the 
supposed  value  of  a  certain  Indian  pony,  called 
"Bunch,"  which  he  had  bought  for  his  "old  wom- 
an's "  Sunday  riding,  and  which  had  sent  the  old 
lady  into  a  fence  corner  the  first  and  only  time  she 
ever  mounted  him.  As  he  weighed  the  pouch  of 
silver  in  his  hand,  Mr.  Suggs  also  endeavored  to 
analyze  the  character  of  the  transaction  proposed  by 


SIMON  SUGGS.  5 1 

Simon.  "It  sartinly  cant  be  nothin'  but  givm\  no 
way  it  kin  be  twisted,"  he  murmured  to  himself.  "  I 
htow  he  can't  do  it,  so  there 's  no  resk.  What  makes 
bettin'  }  The  resk.  -It 's  a  one-sided  business,  and 
I'll  jist  let  him  give  me  all  his  money,  and  that'll 
put  all  his  wild  sportin'  notions  out  of  his  head." 

**  Will  you  stand  it,  daddy } "  asked  Simon,  by 
way  of  waking  the  old  man  up.  "You  mought  as 
well,  for  the  whippin'  won't  do  you  no  good  ;  and  as 
for  Bunch,  nobody  about  the  plantation  won't  ride 
him  but  me." 

"  Simon,"  replied  the  old  man,  "  I  agree  to  it. 
Your  old  daddy  is  in  a  close  place  about  payin'  for 
his  land  ;  and  this  here  money  —  it 's  jist  eleven  dol- 
lars, lacking  of  twenty-five  cents  —  will  help  out 
mightily.  But  mind,  Simon,  ef  anything  's  said  about 
this  herearter,  remember,  you  give  me  the  money.'' 

"Very  well,  daddy  ;  and  ef  the  thing  works  up 
instid  o'  down,  I  s'pose  we  '11  say  you  give  me  Bunch, 
eh  > " 

"  You  won't  never  be  troubled  to  tell  how  you 
come  by  Bunch;  the  thing's  agin  nater,  and  can't 
be  done.  What  old  Jed'diah  Suggs  knows,  he  knows 
as  good  as  anybody.     Give  me  them  fixments,  Si- 


mon." 


Our  hero  handed  the  cards  to  his  father,  who, 
dropping  the  plow-line  with  which  he  had  intended 
to  tie  Simon's  hands,  turned  his  back  to  that  indi- 
vidual, in  order  to  prevent  his  witnessing  the  opera- 
tion of  mixing.  He  then  sat  down,  and  very  leisurely 
commenced  shuffling  the  cards,  making,  however, 
an  exceedingly  awkward  job  of  it.  Restive  kings 
and  queens  jumped  from  his  hands,  or  obstinately 
refused  to  slide  into  the  company  of  the  rest  of  the 


52  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

pack.  Occasionally  a  sprightly  knave  would  insist 
on  facing  his  neighbor  ;  or,  pressing  his  edge  against 
another's,  half  double  himself  up,  and  then  skip  away. 
But  Elder  Jed'diah  perseveringly  continued  his  at- 
tempts to  subdue  the  refractory,  while  heav)  drops 
burst  from  his  forehead,  and  ran  down  his  cheeks. 
All  of  a  sudden  an  idea,  quick  and  penetrating  as  a 
rifle-ball,  seemed  to  have  entered  the  cranium  of  the 
old  man.  He  chuckled  audibly.  The  devil  had  sug- 
gested to  Mr.  Suggs  an  impromptic  "stock,"  which 
would  place  the  chances  of  Simon,  already  suffi- 
ciently slim  in  the  old  man's  opinion,  without  the 
range  of  possibility.  Mr.  Suggs  forthwith  proceeded 
to  cull  out  all  the  pictcr  ones,  so  as  to  be  certain  to 
include  the  yacks,  and  place  them  at  the  bottom, 
with  the  evident  intention  of  keeping  Simon's  fingers 
above  these  when  he  should  cut.  Our  hero,  v/ho 
was  quietly  looking  over  his  father's  shoulders  all 
the  time,  did  not  seem  alarmed  by  this  disposition 
of  the  cards  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  smiled,  as  if  he 
felt  perfectly  confident  of  success,  in  spite  of  it. 

**Now,  daddy,"  said  Simon,  when  his  father  had 
announced  himself  ready,  "  narry  one  of  us  ain't  got 
to  look  at  the  cards,  while  I  'm  a  cuttin' ;  if  we  do, 
it'll  spile  the  conjuration." 

''Very  well." 

"And  another  thing:  you've  got  to  look  me 
right  dead  in  the  eye,  daddy  ;  will  you  } " 

"  To  be  sure,  —  to  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Suggs  ;  "  fire 
away." 

Simon  walked  up  close  to  his  father,  and  placed 
his  hand  on  the  pack.  Old  Mr.  Suggs  looked  in  Si- 
mon's eye,  and  Simon  returned  the  look  for  about 
three  seconds,  during  which  a  close  observer  might 


SIMON  SUGGS.  53 

have  detected  a  suspicious  working  of  the  wrist  of 
the  hand  on  the  cards,  but  the  elder  Suggs  did  not 
remark  it. 

*'  Wake  snakes  !  day 's  a-breakin  '  !  Rise  Jack  !  '* 
said  Simon,  cutting  half  a  dozen  cards  from  the  top 
of  the  pack,  and  presenting  the  face  of  the  bottom 
one  for  the  inspection  of  his  father. 

It  was  the  Jack  of  hearts  ! 

Old  Mr.  Suggs  staggered  back  several  steps,  with 
uplifted  eyes  and  hands  ! 

**  Marciful  master  !  "  he  exclaimed,  **  ef   the  boy 

hain't  !  Well,  how  in  the  round  creation  of  the ! 

Ben,  did  you  ever  t  To  be  sure  and  sartin,  Satan  has 
power  on  this  yeath  !  "  and  Mr.  Suggs  groaned  in 
very  bitterness. 

"  You  never  seed  nothin'  like  that  in  Augnsty,  did 
ye,  daddy  }  "  asked  Simon,  with  a  malicious  wink  at 
Ben. 

"  Simon,  how  did  you  do  it  ?  "  queried  the  old  man, 
without  noticing  his  son's  question. 

"  Do  it,  daddy  .?  Do  it  .?  'T  ain't  nothin'.  I  done 
it  jist  as  easy  as  —  shootin'." 

Whether  this  explanation  was  entirely,  or  in  any 
degree,  satisfactory  to  the  perplexed  mind  of  Elder 
Jed'diah  Suggs  cannot,  after  the  lapse  of  time  which 
has  intervened,  be  sufficiently  ascertained.  It  is 
certain,  however,  that  he  pressed  the  investigation 
no  farther,  but  merely  requested  his  son  Benjamin 
to  witness  the  fact  that,  in  consideration  of  his  love 
and  affection  for  his  son  Simon,  and  in  order  to  fur- 
nish the  donee  v/ith  the  means  of  leaving  that  por- 
tion of  the  State  of  Georgia,  he  bestowed  upon  him 
the  impracticable,  pony.  Bunch. 

**  Jist  so,  daddy  ;  jist  so  ;  I  '11  witness  that.     But 


54  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

it  'minds  me  mightily  of  the  way  mammy  give  old 
Trailler  the  side  of  bacon,  last  week.  She  a-sweep- 
in'  up  the  hath ;  the  meat  on  the  table  ;  old  Trailler 
jumps  up,  gethers  the  bacon,  and  darts  !  Mammy 
arter  him  with  the  broom-stick  as  fur  as  the  door, 
but  seein'  the  dog  has  got  the  start,  she  shakes  the 
stick  at  him,  and  hollers,  *  You  sassy,  aig-sukkin', 
roguish,  gnatty,  flop-eared  varmint!  take  it  along! 
take  it  along  !  I  only  wish  't  was  full  of  a'snic,  and 
ox-vomit,  and  blue  vitrul,  so  as  't  would  cut  your  in- 
terls  into  chitlins  ! '  That 's  about  the  way  you  give 
Bunch  to  Simon." 

**  Oh,  shuh,  Ben,"  remarked  Simon,  "  I  would  n't 
run  on  that  way.  Daddy  couldn't  help  it  ;  it  was/r^- 
destiiiated :  'Whom  he  hath,  he  will,'  you  know," 
and  the  rascal  pulled  down  the  under  lid  of  his  left 
eye  at  his  brother.  Then  addressing  his  father,  he 
asked,  "  Warn't  it,  daddy  t  " 

"  To  be  sure  —  to  be  sure  —  all  fixed  aforehand," 
was  old  Mr.  Suggs'  reply. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  so,  Ben.?"  said  Simon.  ''/ 
knowed  it  was  all  fixed  aforehand,"  and  he  laughed 
until  he  was  purple  in  the  face. 

**  What 's  in  ye  .?  What  are  ye  laughin'  about  1  " 
asked  the  old  man  wrothily. 

"  Oh,  it 's  so  funny  that  it  could  all  'a'  h^oxi  fixed 
aforehand  r'  said  Simon,  and  laughed  louder  than 
before.  The  obtusity  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Suggs, 
however,  prevented  his  making  any  discoveries.  He 
fell  into  a  brown  study,  and  no  further  allusion  was 
made  to  the  matter. 

It  was  evident  to  our  hero  that  his  father  intended 
he  should  remain  but  one  more  night  beneath  the 
paternal  roof.     What  mattered  it  to  Simon  } 


SIMON  SUGGS.  55 

He  went  home  at  night  ;  curried  and  fed  Bunch ; 
whispered  confidentially  in  his  ear  that  he  was  the 
"  fastest:  piece  of  hossflesh,  accordin'  to  size,  that 
ever  shaded  the  yeath  ;  "  and  then  busied  himself  in 
preparing  for  an  early  start  on  the  morrow. 

Old  Mrs.  Suggs'  big  red  rooster  had  hardly  ceased 
crowing  in  announcement  of  the  coming  dawn,  when 
Simon  mounted  the  intractable  Bunch.  Both  were 
in  high  spirits  :  our  hero  at  the  idea  of  unrestrained 
license  in  future ;  and  Bunch  from  a  mesmerical 
transmission  to  himself  of  a  portion  of  his  master's 
deviltry.  Simon  raised  himself  in  the  stirrups,  yelled 
a  tolerably  fair  imitation  of  the  Creek  war-whoop, 
and  shouted,  — 

"  I  'm  off,  old  stud  !  Remember  the  Jack-a-hearts  !  " 

Bunch  shook  his  little  head,  tucked  down  his  tail, 
ran  sideways,  as  if  going  to  fall,  and  then  suddenly 
reared,  squealed,  and  struck  off  at  a  brisk  gallop. 


II. 

THE    CAPTAIN    ATTENDS   A   CAMP-MEETING. 

Captain  Suggs  found  himself  as  poor  at  the  con* 
elusion  of  the  Creek  war  as  he  had  been  at  its  com- 
mencement. Although  no  **  arbitrary,"  "  despotic," 
"  corrupt,"  and  "  unprincipled  "  judge  had  fined  him 
a  thousand  dollars  for  his  proclamation  of  martial  law 
at  Fort  Suggs,  or  the  enforcement  of  its  rules  in  the 
case  of  Mrs.  Haycock,  yet  somehow  —  the  thing  is 
alike  inexplicable  to  him  and  to  us  —  the  money 
which  he  had  contrived,  by  various  shifts,  to  obtain 
melted  away,  and  was  gone  forever.  To  a  man  like 
the  Captain,  of  intense  domestic  affections,  this  state 


56  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

of  destitution  was  most  distressing.  "  He  could 
stand  it  himself,  —  did  n't  care  a  d — n  for  it,  no 
way,"  he  observed ;  '*  but  the  old  woman  and  the 
children,  —  that  bothered  him  !  " 

As  he  sat,  one  day,  ruminating  upon  the  unpleas^ 
ant  condition  of  his  **  financial  concerns,"  Mrs.  Suggs 
informed  him  that  "  the  sugar  and  coffee  was  nigh 
about  out,"  and  that  there  were  not  *'a  dozen  j'ints 
and  middlins,  all  put  together,  in  the  smoke-house.'* 
Suggs  bounced  up  on  the  instant,  exclaiming, 
"  D — n  it !  somebody  must  suffer  !  "  But  whether 
this  remark  was  intended  to  convey  the  idea  that  he 
and  his  family  were  about  to  experience  the  want  of 
the  necessaries  of  life,  or  that  some  other  and  as 
yet  unknown  individual  should  "  suffer  "  to  prevent 
that  prospective  exigency,  must  be  left  to  the  com- 
mentators, if  perchance  any  of  that  ingenious  class 
of  persons  should  hereafter  see  proper  to  write  notes 
for  this  history.  It  is  enough  for  us  that  we  give  all 
the  facts  in  this  connection,  so  that  ignorance  of  the 
subsequent  conduct  of  Captain  Suggs  may  not  lead 
to  an  erroneous  judgment  in  respect  to  his  words. 

Having  uttered  the  exclamation  we  have  repeated, 
and  perhaps  hurriedly  walked  once  or  twice  across 
the  room,  Captain  Suggs  drew  on  his  famous  old 
green-blanket  overcoat,  and  ordered  his  horse,  and 
within  five  minutes  was  on  his  way  to  a  camp-meet- 
ing, then  in  full  blast  on  Sandy  Creek,  twenty  miles 
distant,  where  he  hoped  to  find  amusement,  at  least. 
When  he  arrived  there,  he  found  the  hollow  square 
of  the  encampment  filled  with  people,  listening  to 
the  mid-day  sermon  and  its  dozen  accompanying 
"  exhortations."  A  half  dozen  preachers  were  dis- 
pensing the  word ;  the  one  in  the  pulpit  a  meek 


SIMON  SUGGS.  57 

faced  old  man,  of  great  simplicity  and  benevolence. 
His  voice  was  weak  and  cracked,  notwithstanding 
which,  however,  he  contrived  to  make  himself  heard 
occasionally,  above  the  din  of  the  exhorting,  the 
singing,  and  the  shouting  which  were  going  on 
around  him.  The  rest  were  walking  to  and  fro 
(engaged  in  the  other  exercises  we  have  indicated) 
among  the  ''mourners,"  — a  host  of  whom  occupied 
the  seat  set  apart  for  their  especial  use,  — or  made 
personal  appeals  to  the  mere  spectators.  The  ex- 
citement was  intense.  Men  and  women  rolled  about 
on  the  ground,  or  lay  sobbing  or  shouting  in  promis- 
cuous heaps.  More  than  all,  the  negroes  sang  and 
screamed  and  prayed.  Several,  under  the  influence 
of  what  is  technically  called  *'the  jerks,"  were  plung- 
ing and  pitching  about  with  convulsive  energy.  The 
great  object  of  all  seemed  to  be  to  see  who  could 
make  the  greatest  noise  : 

'•  And  each,  for  madness  ruled  the  hour, 
Would  try  his  own  expressive  power." 

''  Bless  my  poor  old  soul  !  "  screamed  the  preacher 
in  the  pulpit  ;  "  ef  yonder  ain't  a  squad  in  that  cor- 
ner that  we  ain't  got  one  outen  yet  !  It  '11  never 
do,"  —  raising  his  voice,  —  *'you  must  come  outen 
that !  Brother  Fant,  fetch  up  that  youngster  in  the 
blue  coat !  I  see  the  Lord  's  a-workin'  upon  him  ! 
Fetch  him  along  —  glory  —  yes  !  —  hold  to  him  !  " 

''Keep  the  thing  warm!"  roared  a  sensual-seem- 
ing man,  of  stout  mould  and  florid  countenance,  who 
was  exhorting  among  a  bevy  of  young  women,  upon 
whom  he  was  lavishing  caresses.  "  Keep  the  thing 
warm,  breethring  !  Come  to  the  Lord,  honey  !  "  he 
added,  as  he  vigorously  hugged  one  of  the  damsels 
he  sought  to  save. 


58  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

**  Oh,  I  've  got  him  ! "  said  another  in  exulting 
tones,  as  he  led  up  a  gawky  youth  among  the  mourn- 
ers, —  **  I  've  got  him  —  he  tried  to  git  off,  but  —  ha  ! 
Lord!"  —  shaking  his  head,  as  much  as  to  say,  it 
took  a  smart  fellow  to  escape  him  —  *'  ha !  Lord !  "  — 
and  he  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  face  with  one 
hand,  and  with  the  other  patted  his  neophyte  on  the 
shoulder  —  ''  he  could  n't  do  it  !  No  !  Then  he  tried 
to  argy  wi'  me  —  but  bless  the  Lord!  he  could  n'c 
do  that  nother  !  Ha  !  Lord  !  I  tuk  him,  fust  in  the 
Old  Testament  —  bless  the  Lord  !  —  and  I  argyed 
him  all  thro'  Kings  —  then  I  throwed  him  into  Prov- 
erbs, —  and  from  that,  here  we  had  it  up  and  down, 
kleer  down  to  the  New  Testament  ;  and  then  I  begun 
to  see  it  work  him  !  —  then  we  got  into  Matthy,  and 
from  Matthy  right  straight  along  to  Acts  ;  and  thar 
I  throwed  him  !  Y-e-s  L-o-r-d  !  "  assuming  the  nasal 
twang  and  high  pitch  which  are,  in  some  parts, 
considered  the  perfection  of  rhetorical  art,  "  Y-e-s 
L-o-r-d !  and  h-e-r-e  he  is  !  Now  g-i-t  down  thar," 
addressing  the  subject,  **  and  s-e-e  ef  the  L-o-r-d 
ViTon't  do  somethin'  f-o-r  you  !  "  Having  thus  de- 
posited his  charge  among  the  mourners,  he  started 
out  summarily  to  convert  another  soul ! 

"  Gl-o-r^^  /  "  yelled  a  huge,  greasy  negro  woman, 
as  in  a  fit  of  the  jerks  she  threw  herself  convulsively 
from  her  feet,  and  fell,  *'  like  a  thousand  of  brick," 
across  a  diminutive  old  man  in  a  little  round  hat, 
w^ho  was  squeaking  consolation  to  one  of  the  mourn- 
ers. 

"  Good  Lord,  have  mercy  ! "  ejaculated  the  little 
man  earnestly  and  unaffectedly,  as  he  strove  to  crawl 
from  under  the  sable  mass  which  was  crushing  him. 

In  another  part  of  the  square  a  dozen  old  women 


SIMON  SUGGS.  59 

were  singing.     They  were  in  a  state  of  absolute  ec- 
stasy, as  their  shrill  pipes  gave  forth,  — 

"  I  rode  on  the  sky, 
Quite  ondestified  I, 
And  the  moon  it  was  under  my  feet !  " 

Near  these  last  stood  a  delicate  woman,  in  that 
hysterical  condition  in  which  the  nerves  are  uncon- 
trollable, and  which  is  vulgarly  —  and  almost  blas- 
phemously —  termed  the  *'  holy  laugh."  A  hide- 
ous grin  distorted  her  mouth,  and  was  accompanied 
with  a  maniac's  chuckle  ;  while  every  muscle  and 
nerve  of  her  face  twitched  and  jerked  in  horrible 
spasms.^ 

Amid  all  this  confusion  and  excitement  Suggs 
stood  unmoved.  He  viewed  the  whole  affair  as  a 
grand  deception,  a  sort  of  "opposition  line"  run- 
ning against  his  own,  and  looked  on  with  a  sort  of 
professional  jealousy.  Sometimes  he  would  mutter 
running  comments  upon  what  passed  before  him. 

"  Well,  now,"  said  he,  as  he  observed  the  full-faced 
brother  who  was  "officiating"  among  the  women, 
"  that  ere  feller  takes  my  eye  !  Thar  he 's  been 
this  half  hour,  a-figurin'  amongst  them  galls,  and  's 
never  said  the  fust  word  to  nobody  else.     Wonder 

1  Mr.  Hooper  adds  the  following  note  in  this  place  :  — 
"The  reader  is  requested  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  scenes  de- 
scribed in  this  chapter  are  not  now  to  be  witnessed.  Eight  or  ten 
years  ago,  all  classes  of  population  of  the  Creek  country  were  very 
different  from  what  they  now  are.  Of  course,  no  disrespect  is  in- 
tended to  any  denomination  of  Christians.  We  believe  that  camp- 
meetings  are  not  peculiar  to  any  church,  though  most  usual  in  the 
Methodist,  —  a  denomination  whose  respectability  in  Alabama  is  at- 
tested by  the  fact  that  vei-y  many  of  its  worthy  clergymen  and  lay 
members  hold  honorable  and  profitable  offices  in  the  gift  of  the  state 
legislature  ;  of  which,  indeed,  almost  a  controlling  portion  are  them- 
selves Methodists." 


6o  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

what 's  the  reason  these  here  preachers  never  hugs 
up  the  old,  ugly  women  !  Never  seed  one  do  it  in 
my  life,  —  the  sperrit  never  moves  'em  that  way  !  It 's 
nater  tho'  ;  and  the  women,  tJiey  never  flocks  round 
one  o'  the  old  dried-up  breethring.  Bet  two  to  one, 
old  splinter-legs  thar  "  — nodding  at  one  of  the  minis- 
ters —  "  won't  git  a  chance  to  say  turkey  to  a  good- 
lookin'  gall  to-day  !  Well !  who  blames  'em  ?  Nater 
will  be  nater,  all  the  world  over  ;  and  I  judge  ef  I 
was  a  preacher,  I  should  save  the  purtiest  souls  fust, 
myself !  " 

While  the  Captain  was  in  the  middle  of  this  con- 
versation with  himself,  he  caught  the  attention  of 
the  preacher  in  the  pulpit,  who,  inferring  from  an 
indescribable  something  about  his  appearance  that 
he  was  a  person  of  some  consequence,  immediately 
determined  to  add  him  at  once  to  the  church,  if  it 
could  be  done ;  and  to  that  end  began  a  vigorous, 
direct  personal  attack. 

"■  Breethring,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  see  yonder  a  man 
that 's  a  sinner  !  I  hiozv  he  's  a  sinner  !  Thar  he 
stands,"  pointing  at  Simon,  "  a  missuble  old  crittur, 
with  his  head  a-blossomin'  for  the  grave  !  A  few 
more  short  years,  and  d-o-w-n  he  '11  go  to  perdition, 
lessen  the  Lord  have  mer-cy  on  him  !  Come  up 
here,  you  old  hoary-headed  sinner,  a-n-d  git  down 
upon  your  knees,  a-n-d  put  up  your  cry  for  the  Lord 
to  snatch  you  from  the  bottomless  pit !  You  're  ripe 
for  the  devil  ;  you  're  b-o-u-n-d  for  hell,  and  the  Lord 
only  knows  what  '11  become  on  you  ! " 

"D — n  it,"  thought  Suggs,  '' ef  \  only  had  you 
down  in  the  krick  swamp  for  a  minit  or  so,  Fd  show 
you  who  's  old  !  F d  alter  your  tune  mighty  sudden, 
you  sassy,  'saitful  old  rascal !  "     But  he  judiciously 


SIMON  SUGGS.      •  6 1 

held    his    tongue,  and    gave    no    utterance   to    the 
thought. 

The  attention  of  many  having  been  directed  to 
the  Captain  by  the  preacher's  remarks,  he  was  soon 
surrounded  by  numerous  well-meaning  and  doubt« 
less  very  pious  persons,  each  one  of  whom  seemed 
bent  on  the  application  of  his  own  particular  recipe 
for  the  salvation  of  souls.  For  a  long  time  the  Cap- 
tain stood  silent,  or  answered  the  incessant  stream 
of  exhortation  only  with  a  sneer  ;  but  at  length  his 
countenance  began  to  give  token  of  inward  emotion. 
First  his  eyelids  twitched  ;  then  his  upper  lip  quiv- 
ered ;  next  a  transparent  drop  formed  on  one  of  his 
eyelashes,  and  a  similar  one  on  the  tip  of  his  nose ; 
and  at  last  a  sudden  bursting  of  air  from  nose  and 
mouth  told  that  Captain  Suggs  was  overpowered  by 
his  emotions.  At  the  moment  of  the  explosion,  h^ 
made  a  feint  as  if  to  rush  from  the  crowd,  but  he 
was  in  experienced  hands,  who  well  knew  that  the 
battle  was  more  than  half  won. 

**  Hold  to  him  !  "  said  one.  "  It 's  a-workin'  in  him 
as  strong  as  a  Dick  horse  ! " 

"Pour  it  into  him,"  said  another;  ''it'll  all  come 
right  directly." 

"That 's  the  way  I  love  to  see  'em  do,"  observed 
a  third  ;  "  when  you  begin  to  draw  the  water  from 
their  eyes,  't  ain't  gwine  to  be  long  afore  you  '11  have 
em  on  their  knees  !  " 

And  so  they  clung  to  the  Captain  manfully,  and 
half  dragged,  half  led  him  to  the  mourner's  bench  ; 
by  which  he  threw  himself  down,  altogether  un- 
manned, and  bathed  in  tears.  Great  was  the  re- 
joicing of  the  brethren,  as  they  sang,  shouted,  and 
prayed  around  him  ;  for  by  this  time  it  had  come  to 


62  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  II FE. 

be  generally  known  that  the  ''convicted"  old  man 
was  Captain  Simon  Suggs,  the  very  "  chief  of  sin- 
ners "  in  all  that  region. 

The  Captain  remained  groveling  in  the  dust  dur- 
ing the  usual  time,  and  gave  vent  to  even  more  than 
the  requisite  number  of  sobs  and  groans  and  heart- 
piercing  cries.  At  length,  when  the  proper  time 
had  arrived,  he  bounced  up,  and  with  a  face  radiant 
with  joy  commenced  a  series  of  vaultings  and  tum- 
blings, which  "laid  in  the  shade"  all  previous  per- 
formances of  the  sort  at  mat  camp-meeting.  The 
brethren  were  in  ecstasies  at  this  demonstrative  evi- 
dence of  completion  of  the  work ;  and  whenever 
Suggs  shouted  "  Gloree  !  "  at  the  top  of  his  lungs, 
every  one  of  them  shouted  it  back,  until  the  woods 
rang  with  echoes. 

The  effervescence  having  partially  subsided,  Suggs 
was  put  upon  his  pins  to  relate  his  experience,  which 
he  did  somewhat  in  this  style,  first  brushing  the 
tear-drops  from  his  eyes,  and  giving  the  end  of  his 
nose  a  preparatory  wring  with  his  fingers,  to  free  it 
of  the  superabundant  moisture. 

**  Friends,"  he  said,  "  it  don't  take  long  to  curry 
a  short  horse,  accordin'  to  the  old  sayin',  and  I  '11 
give  you  the  perticklers  of  the  way  I  was  *  brought 
to  a  knowledge'"  —  here  the  Captain  wiped  his 
eyes,  brushed  the  tip  of  his  nose,  and  snuffled  a  lit- 
tle —  "  in  less  "n  no  time." 

"  Praise  the  Lord  ! "  ejaculated  a  by-stander. 

"  You  see  I  come  here  full  o'  romancin'  and  devil- 
ment, and  jist  to  make  game  of  all  the  purceedins. 
Well,  sure  enough,  I  done  so  for  some  time,  and 
was  a-thinkin'  how  I  should  play  some  trick  "  — 

"  Dear  soul  alive  !    dont   he    talk  sweet  .-* "    cried 


SIMON  SUGGS.  ^i 

an  old  lady  in  black  silk.  "Whar's  John  Dobbs  ? 
You  Sukey !  "  screaming  at  a  negro  woman  on  the 
other  side  of  the  square,  "  ef  you  don't  hunt  up 
your  mass  John  in  a  minute,  and  have  him  here  to 
listen  to  his  'sperience,  I  '11  tuck  you  up  when  I  git 
home  and  give  you  a  hundred  and  fifty  lashes,  madam! 
see  ef  I  don't  !  Blessed  Lord  !  "  referrino:  aerain  to 
the  Captain's  relation,  "ain't  it  2. precious  'scourse  ?  " 

"  I  was  jist  a-thinkin'  how  I  should  play  some 
trick  to  turn  it  all  into  redecule,  when  they  began  to 
come  round  me  and  talk.  Long  at  fust  I  did  n't 
mind  it,  but  arter  a  little  that  brother,"  pointing  to 
the  reverend  gentleman  who  had  so  successfully 
carried  the  unbeliever  through  the  Old  and  New 
Testaments,  and  who,  Simon  was  convinced,  was  the 
"big  dog  of  the  tan-yard,"  —  *'  that  brother  spoke  a 
word  that  struck  me  kleen  to  the  heart,  and  run  all 
over  me,  like  fire  in  dry  grass"  — 

"/-/-/ can  bring 'em  !  "  cried  the  preacher  alluded 
to,  in  a  tone  of  exultation.  "  Lord,  thou  knows  ef 
thy  servant  can't  stir  'em  up,  nobody  else  need  n't 
try  ;  but  the  glory  ain't  mine.  I  'm  a  poor  worrum 
of  the  dust,"  he  added,  with  ill-managed  affectation. 

"And  so  from  that  I  felt  somethin'  a-pullin'  me 
inside  "  — 

"  Grace  !  grace  !  nothin'  but  grace  !  "  exclaimed 
one;  meaning  that  "grace"  had  been  operating  in 
the  Captain's  gastric  region. 

"And  then,"  continued  Suggs,  "I  wanted  to  git 
off,  but  they  hilt  me,  and  bimeby  I  felt  so  missuble 
I  had  to  go  yonder,"  pointing  to  the  mourners'  seat  ; 
^  and  when  I  lay  down  thar  it  got  wuss  and  wuss, 
and  'peared  like  somethin'  was  a-mashin'  down  on 
my  back"  — 


64  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"That  was  his  load  o'  sin,"  said  one  of  the  breth- 
ren.  "  Never  mind  ;  it  '11  tumble  off  presently,  see  ef 
it  don't,"  and  he  shook  his  head  professionally  and 
knowingly. 

"  And  it  kept  a-gittin  heavier  and  heavier,  ontwell 
it  looked  like  it  might  be  a  four-year-old  steer,  or  a 
big  pine  log,  or  somethin'  of  that  sort  "  — 

"  Glory  to  my  soul,"  shouted  Mrs.  Dobbs,  "it's 
the  sweetest  talk  I  ever  hearn  !  You  Sukey !  ain't 
you  got  John  yit  .'*  Never  mind,  my  lady,  /'ll  settle 
wi'  you  !  "  Sukey  quailed  before  the  finger  which 
her  mistress  shook  at  her. 

"  And  arter  a  while,"  Suggs  went  on,  "  'peared  like 
I  fell  into  a  trance,  like,  and  I  seed  "  — 

"  Now  we  '11  git  the  good  on  it !  "  cried  one  of  the 
sanctified. 

"  And  I  seed  the  biggest,  longest,  rip-roarenest, 
blackest,  scaliest"  —  Captain  Suggs  paused,  wiped 
his  brow,  and  ejaculated,  ''Ah,  L-o-r-d  !  "  so  as  to 
give  full  time  for  curiosity  to  become  impatience  to 
know  what  he  saw. 

''  Sarpeiit,  warn't  it  .^ "  asked  one  of  the  preachers. 

"■  No,  not  a  sarpent,"  replied  Suggs,  blowing  his 
nose. 

"  Do  tell  us  wJiat  it  war !  Soul  alive  !  Whar  is 
John  .-*  "   said  Mrs.  Dobbs. 

''Alligator!  "  said  the  Captain. 

"  Alligator  !  "  repeated  every  woman  present,  and 
screamed  for  very  life. 

Mrs.  Dobbs's  nerves  were  so  shaken  by  the  an- 
nouncement that,  after  repeating  the  horrible  word, 
she  screamed  to  Sukey,  "  You  Sukey,  I  say,  you  Su- 
u-ke-e-y  !  ef  you  let  John  come  a-nigh  this  way,  whar 
the  dreadful  alliga  —  Shaw  !  what  am  I  thinkih 
'bout .?     'T  warn't  nothin'  but  a  vishin  !  " 


SIMON  SUGGS.  65 

"Well,"  said  the  Captain  in  continuation,  **  the 
alligator  kept  a-comin'  and  a-comin'  to'ards  me,  with 
his  great  long  jaws  a-gapin'  open  like  a  ten-foot 
pair  o'  tailors'  shears  "  — 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  Lord  !  gracious  above  !  "  cried  the 
women. 

**  Satan  !  "  was  the  laconic  ejaculation  of  the  old- 
est preacher  present,  who  thus  informed  the  con- 
gregation that  it  was  the  devil  which  had  attacked 
Suggs  in  the  shape  of  an  alligator. 

"  And  then  I  concluded  the  jig  was  up,  'thout  I 
could  block  his  game  some  way ;  for  I  seed  his  idee 
was  to  snap  off  my  head  "  — 

The  women  screamed  again. 

"  So  I  fixed  myself  jist  like  I  was  purfectly  willin' 
for  him  to  take  my  head,  and  rather  he  'd  do  it  as 
not,"  —  here  the  women  shuddered  perceptibly,  — 
"  and  so  I  hilt  my  head  straight  out,"  —  the  Captain 
illustrated  by  elongating  his  neck  ;  "  and  when  he 
come  up,  and  was  a-gwine  to  sJiet  down  on  it,  I  jist 
pitched  in  a  big  rock,  which  choked  him  to  death  ; 
and  that  minit  I  felt  the  weight  slide  off,  and  I  had 
the  best  feelins  —  sorter  like  you  '11  have  from  good 
sperrits  —  anybody  ever  had  !  " 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  so  }  Did  n't  I  tell  you  so  ?  " 
asked  the  brother  who  had  predicted  the  off-tumbling 
of  the  load  of  sin.  "  Ha,  Lord !  fool  who  !  I  've  been 
all  along  thar  !  yes,  all  along  thar  !  and  I  know  every 
mch  of  the  way  jist  as  good  as  I  do  the  road  home  ! " 
and  then  he  turned  round  and  round,  and  looked  at 
all,  to  receive  a  silent  tribute  to  his  superior  pene- 
tration. 

Captain  Suggs  was  now  the  "lion  of  the  day." 
Nobody  could  pray  so  well,  or  exhort  so  movingly, 

5 


66  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

as  "brother  Suggs."  Nor  did  his  natural  modesty 
prevent  the  proper  performance  of  appropriate  exer- 
cises. With  the  Reverend  Bela  Bugg  (him  to  whom, 
under  providence,  he  ascribed  his  conversion)  he 
was  a  most  especial  favorite.  They  walked,  sang, 
and  prayed  together  for  hours. 

**  Come,  come  up ;  thar  's  room  for  all !  "  cried 
brother  Bugg,  in  his  evening  exhortation.  "  Come 
to  the  *  seat,'  and  ef  you  won't  pray  yourselves  let 
me  pray  for  you  !  " 

"  Yes  !  "  said  Simon,  byway  of  assisting  his  friend  ; 
**it's  a  game  that  all  can  win  at!  Ante  up  !  ante 
up,  boys  —  friends,  I  mean  !     Don't  back  out !  " 

"Thar  ain't  a  sinner  here,"  said  Bugg,  "no  matter 
ef  his  soul 's  black  as  a  nigger,  but  what  thar's  room 
for  him  ! " 

"  No  matter  what  sort  of  a  hand  you  've  got," 
added  Simon,  in  the  fullness  of  his  benevolence  ; 
"  take  stock  !  Here  am  /,  the  wickedest  and  blindest 
of  sinners  ;  has  spent  my  whole  life  in  the  sarvice 
of  the  devil ;  has  now  come  in  on  nary  pair  and  won 
3. pile!''  and  the  Captain's  face  beamed  with  holy 
pleasure. 

"  D-o-n-'t  be  afeard  !  "  cried  the  preacher  ;  "  come 
along  !  the  meanest  won't  be  turned  away  !  humble 
yourselves,  and  come  !  " 

"No  !  "  said  Simon,  still  indulging  in  his  favorite 
style  of  metaphor  ;  "  the  bluff  game  ain't  played  here  ! 
No  runnin'  of  a  body  off  !  Everybody  holds  four 
aces,  and  when  you  bet  you  win  ! " 

And  thus  the  Captain  continued,  until  the  services 
were  concluded,  to  assist  in  adding  to  the  number 
at  the  mourners'  seat ;  and  up  to  the  hour  of  retir- 
ing, he  exhibited  such  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  that 


SIMON  SUGGS.  67 

he  was  unanimously  voted  to  be  the  most  efficient 
addition  the  church  had  made  during  that  meeting. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  preacher  of  the  day 
first  entered  the  pulpit,  he  announced  that  "  brother 
Simon  Suggs,"  mourning  over  his  past  iniquities, 
and  desirous  of  going  to  work  in  the  cause  as 
speedily  as  possible,  would  take  up  a  collection  to 
found  a  church  in  his  own  neighborhood,  at  w^hich 
he  hoped  to  make  himself  useful  as  soon  as  he  could 
prepare  himself  for  the  ministry,  which,  the  preacher 
did  n't  doubt,  would  be  in  a  very  few  weeks,  as 
brother  Suggs  was  "a  man  of  mighty  good  judg- 
me?tt,  and  of  a  great  discorse^  The  funds  were  to 
be  collected  by  '*  brother  Suggs,"  and  held  in  trust 
by  brother  Bela  Bugg,  who  was  the  financial  officer 
of  the  circuit,  until  some  arrangement  could  be  made 
to  build  a  suitable  house. 

"  Yes,  breethring,"  said  the  Captain,  rising  to  his 
feet ;  "  I  want  to  start  a  little  'sociation  close  to  me, 
and  I  want  you  all  to  help.  I  'm  mighty  poor  my- 
self, as  poor  as  any  of  you.  Don't  leave,  breethring," 
observing  that  several  of  the  well-to-do  were  about 
to  go  off, —  **  don't  leave  ;  ef  you  ain't  able  to  afford 
anything,  jist  give  us  your  blessin',  and  it'll  be  all 
the  same  ! " 

This  insinuation  did  the  business,  and  the  sensi- 
tive individuals  reseated  themselves. 

"  It 's  mighty  little  of  this  world's  goods  I  've  got," 
resumed  Suggs,  pulling  off  his  hat,  and  holding  it 
before  him  ;  "  but  I  '11  bury  that  in  the  cause,  any- 
how," and  he  deposited  his  last  five-dollar  bill  in  the 
nat.  There  was  a  murmur  of  approbation  at  the 
Captain's  liberality  throughout  the  assembly. 

Suggs  now  commenced  collecting,  and  very  pru- 


68  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

dently  attacked  first  the  gentlemen  who  had  shown 
a  disposition  to  escape.  These,  to  exculpate  them- 
selves from  anything  like  poverty,  contributed  hand- 
somely. 

"  Look  here,  breethring,"  said  the  Captain,  dis- 
playing the  bank-notes  thus  received,  "  brother 
Snooks  has  drapt  a  fiv^e  wi'  me,  and  brother  Snod- 
grass  a  ten  !  In  course  't  ain't  expected  that  you  tJiat 
aiiit  as  well  ojf  as  tJieni  will  give  as  miLcJi ;  let  every 
one  give  accordiii  to  ther  means." 

This  was  another  chain-shot  that  raked  as  it  went ! 
**  Who  so  low"  as  not  to*be  able  to  contribute  as 
much  as  Snooks  and  Snodgrass  t 

"  Here  's  all  the  small  money  I  've  got  about  me," 
said  a  burly  old  fellow,  ostentatiously  handing  to 
Suggs,  over  the  heads  of  a  half  dozen,  a  ten-dollar 
bill. 

"  That 's  what  I  call  maganimus  !  "  exclaimed  the 
Captain  ;  "  that 's  the  way  every  rich  man  ought  to 
do!" 

These  examples  were  followed  more  or  less  closely 
by  almost  all  present,  for  Simon  had  excited  the 
pride  of  purse  of  the  congregation,  and  a  very  hand- 
some sum  was  collected  in  a  very  short  time. 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Bugg,  as  soon  as  he  observed 
that  our  hero  had  obtained  all  that  was  to  be  had  at 
that  time,  went  to  him,  and  inquired  what  amount 
had  been  collected.  The  Captain  replied  that  it  was 
still  uncounted,  but  that  it  could  n't  be  much  under 
a  hundred. 

*'  Well,  brother  Suggs,  you  'd  better  count  it,  and 
turn  it  over  to  me  now.  I  'm  goin'  to  leave  pres- 
ently." 

"  No  !  "  said  Suggs  ;  *'  can't  do  it !  " 


SIMON  SUGGS.  69 

"  Why  ?  what 's  the  matter  ?  "  inquired  Bugg. 

*'  It 's  got  to  be  prayed  over,  fust  !  "  said  Simon,  a 
heavenly  smile  illuminating  his  whole  face. 

"  Well,"  replied  Bugg,  "  less  go  one  side  and  do 
it!" 

"  No  ! "  said  Simon,  solemnly. 

Mr.  Bugg  gave  a  look  of  inquiry. 

"■  You  see  that  krick  swamp  .?"  asked  Suggs.  "  I  'm 
gwine  down  in  tliar,  and  I  'm  gwdne  to  lay  this  money 
down  so,''  —  showing  how  he  would  place  it  on  the 
ground, — "and  I'm  gwine  to  git  on  these  here 
knees,"  slapping  the  right  one,  ''  and  I  'm  n-e-v-e-r 
gwine  to  quit  the  grit  ontwell  I  feel  it 's  got  the 
blessin'  !    And  nobody  ain't  got  to  be  thar  but  me  ! " 

Mr.  Bugg  greatly  admired  the  Captain's  fervent 
piety,  and,  bidding  him  godspeed,  turned  off. 

Captain  Suggs  "  struck  for "  the  swamp  sure 
enough,  where  his  horse  was  already  hitched.  **  Ef 
them  fellers  ain't  done  to  a  cracklin',"  he  muttered 
to  himself  as  he  mounted,  "/'ll  never  bet  on  two 
pair  agin  !  They  're  peart  at  the  snap  game,  they- 
selves  ;  but  they  're  badly  lewed  this  hitch  !  Well  ! 
Live  and  let  live  is  a  good  old  motter,  and  it 's  my 
sentiments  adzactly  !  "  And  giving  the  spur  to  his 
horse,  off  he  cantered. 


III. 

SIMON    IS  ARRAIGNED  BEFORE    "a  JURY    OF  HIS  COUNTRY." 

For  a  year  or  two  after  the  Captain's  conversion 
at  the  camp-meeting,  the  memoranda  at  our  com- 
mand furnish  no  information  concerning  him.  We 
next   find  him,  at  the  spring  term,  1838,  arraigned 


70  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

in  the  circuit  court  for  the  county  of  Tallapoosa^ 
charged  in  a  bill  of  indictment  with  gambling,  "  play- 
ing at  a  certain  game  of  cards,  commonly  called 
poker,  for  money,  contrary  to  the  form  of  the  statute, 
and  against  the  peace  and  dignity  of  the  State  of 
Alabama." 

**  Humph  !  "  said  the  Captain  to  himself,  as  Mr. 
Solicitor  Belcher  read  the  bill  ;  "  that's  as  derned  a 
lie  as  ever  Jim  Belcher  writ  !  Thar  never  were  a 
feaceabler  or  x^otq  gentlemanlier  game  o'  short  cards 
played  in  Datesville,  —  which  thar's  a  dozen  men 
here  is  knowin'  to  it  ! " 

Captain  Suggs  had  no  particular  defense  with 
vv^hich  to  meet  the  prosecution.  It  was  pretty  gen- 
erally understood  that  the  State  would  make  out  a 
clear  case  against  him  ;  and  a  considerable  fine,  or 
imprisonment  in  default  of  its  payment,  was  the  cer- 
tainly expected  result.  Yet  Simon  had  employed  — 
though  he  had  not  actually  feed — counsel,  and  had 
some  slight  hope  that  Luck,  the  goddess  of  his  es- 
pecial adoration,  would  not  desert  him  at  the  pinch. 
He  instructed  his  lawyer,  therefore,  to  stave  off  the 
case,  if  possible  ;  or,  at  any  rate,  to  protract  it. 

"The  State  against  Simon  Suggs  and  Andrew, 
alias  Andy,  Owens.  Card-playing.  Hadenskeldt  for 
the  defense.  Are  the  defendants  in  court  t "  said 
the  judge. 

Simon's  counsel  intimated  that  he  was. 

''Take  an  alias  writ  as  to  Owens;  ready  for 
trial  as  to  Suggs,"  said  the  solicitor. 

The  Captain  whispered  to  his  lawyer,  and  urged 
him  to  put  him  on  the  stand,  and  make  a  showing 
for  a  continuance  ;  but  being  advised  by  that  gen- 
tleman that  it  would  be  useless,  got  him  to  obtain 


SIMON  SUGGS.  yi 

/eave  for  him  to  go  out  of  court  for  five  minutes. 
Permission  obtained,  he  went  out,  and  soon  after 
returned. 

"  Is  Wat  Craddock  in  court  .^  "  asked  the  solicitor. 

"  Here  !  "  said  Wat. 

"Take  the  stand,  Mr.  Craddock!"  And  Wat 
obeyed,  and  was  sworn. 

"  Proceed,  Mr.  Craddock,  and  tell  the  court  and 
jury  all  you  know  about  Captain  Suggs  playing 
cards,"  said  Mr.  Belcher. 

"  Stop  !  "  interposed  Simon's  counsel.  "  Do  you 
believe  in  the  revelations  of  Scripture,  Mr.  Crad- 
dock } " 

"  No  !  "  said  the  witness. 

"  I  object,  then,  to  his  testifying,"  said  Mr.  Had- 
enskeldt. 

"  He  does  n't  understand  the  questio7tl''  said  the 
solicitor.  **  You  believe  the  Bible  to  be  true,  don't 
you  }  "  addressing  the  witness. 

"  If  the  court  please  —  stop  !  stop  !  Mr.  Crad- 
dock —  I  '11  ask  him  another  question  before  he  an- 
swers that,"  said  Mr.  Hadenskeldt,  hastily.  **  Did 
you  ever  read  the  Bible,  Mr.  Craddock } " 

"No,"  said  Craddock  ;  "  not 's  I  know  on." 

"  Then  I  object  to  his  testifying,  of  course.  He 
can't  believe  what  he  knows  nothing  about." 

"  He  has  heard  it  read,  I  presume,"  said  Mr.  Bel- 
cher ;   "  have  you  not,  Mr.  Craddock  .?  " 

"  I  mought,"  said  Wat,  "  but  I  don't  know." 

''  Dont  kjtow !  Why,  don't  you  hear  it  ever) 
Sunday  at  church  }  " 

"Ah,  but  you  see,"  replied  Mr.  Craddock,  with 
the  air  of  a  man  about  to  solve  a  difficulty  to  every- 
body's satisfaction  —  "  you  see,  I  don't  never  go  to 
meetin' !  " 


72  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Your  honor  will  perceive  "  —  began  Mr.  Haden 
skeldt. 

"  Why  —  what  —  how  do  you  spend  your  time  on 
Sunday,  Mr.  Craddock  } "  asked  the  solicitor. 

"  Sometimes  I  goes  a-fishin'  on  the  krick,  and 
sometimes  I  plays  marvels,"  repUed  Wat,  gaping 
extensively  as  he  spoke. 

*'  Anything  else  }  " 

**  Sometimes  I  lays  in  the  sun,  back  o'  Andy 
Owens's  grocery." 

*'  Mr.  Belcher,"  asked  the  court,  "  is  this  the  only 
witness  for  the  State  .''  " 

"  We  have  a  half  dozen  more  who  can  prove  all 
the  facts." 

*'  Well,  then,  discharge  this  man  ;  he  's  drunk." 

Mr.  Craddock  was  accordingly  discharged,  and 
William  Sentell  was  put  upon  the  stand.  Just  as 
he  had  kissed  the  book,  a  man,  looking  hot  and 
worried,  was  seen  leaning  over  the  railing  which 
shuts  out  the  spectators  from  the  business  part  of 
the  court-room,  beckoning  to  the  Captain. 

Simon,  having  obtained  leave  to  see  this  person, 
went  to  him,  and  took  a  note  which  the  other  held 
in  his  hand,  and,  after  a  few  words  of  conversation, 
turned  off  to  read  it.  As  he  slowly  deciphered  the 
words,  his  countenance  changed,  and  he  began  to 
weep.  The  solicitor,  who  knew  a  thing  or  two 
about  the  Captain,  laughed  ;  and  so  did  Mr.  Haden- 
skeldt,  although  he  tried  to  suppress  it. 

"  My  boys  is  a-dyin'  !  "  said  Suggs  ;  and  he  threw 
himself  upon  the  steps  leading  to  the  judge's  seat, 
and  sobbed  bitterly, 

"  Come,  come,  Captain,"  said  the  solicitor  ;  **you 
are  a  great  tactician,  but  permit  me  to  say  that  / 


SIMON  SUGGS.  73 

know  you.     Come,    no    shamming !     Let 's  proceed 
with  the  trial." 

"  It  don't  make  no  odds  to  me  now  what  you 
do  about  it.  John  and  Ben  will  be  in  ther  graves 
before  I  git  home,"  and  the  poor  fellow  groaned 
heart-breakingly. 

"  Captain,"  said  Mr.  Hadenskeldt,  vainly  endeav- 
oring to  control  his  risibles,  "  let  us  attend  to  the 
trial  now.     May  be  it  is  n't  as  bad  as  you  suppose." 

"  No,"  said  Suggs,  "  let  'em  find  me  guilty.  I  'm 
a  poor  missuble  old  man  !  The  Lord  's  a-punishin* 
my  gray  hairs  for  my  wickedness  !  " 

Mr.  Hadenskeldt  took  from  the  Captain's  hand 
the  note  containing  the  bad  tidings,  and  to  his  great 
astonishment  saw  that  it  was  from  Dr.  Jourdan,  a 
gentleman  well  known  to  him,  and  entirely  above 
any  suspicion  of  trickery.  It  set  forth  that  the 
Captain's  sons  were  at  the  point  of  death,  —  one  of 
them  beyond  hope  ;  and  urged  the  Captain  to  come 
home  to  his  afflicted  family.  Knowing  that  Suggs 
was  really  an  affectionate  father,  he  was  now  at  no 
loss  to  account  for  the  naturalness  of  his  grief, 
which  he  had  before  supposed  to  be  simulated.  He 
instantly  read  the  note  aloud,  and  remarked  that  he 
would  throw  himself  upon  the  humanity  of  the 
State's  counsel  for  a  continuance. 

Simon  interposed.  "  Never  mind,"  he  sobbed, 
*'  'Squire  Hadenskeldt,  never  mind  ;  let  'em  try  me. 
I  '11  plead  guilty.  The  boys  will  be  dead  afore  I 
could  git  home,  anyhow!  Let  'em  send  me  to  jail, 
whar  thar  won't  be  anybody  to  laugh  at  my 
mis'ry  !  " 

"  Has  this  poor  old  man  ever  been  indicted  be- 
fore ?  "  asked  the  judge. 


74  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Never,"  said  the  solicitor,  who  was  affected  al- 
most to  tears.  "  He  has  the  reputation  of  being 
dissipated  and  tricky,  but  I  think  has  never  been 
in  court,  at  the  instance  of  the  State,  before." 

"Ah,  well,  then,  Mr.  Belcher,"  replied  the  judge, 
"I  would  '  nol.  pros'  the  case,  if  I  were  you,  and 
let  this  grief-stricken  old  man  go  home  to  his  dying 
children.  He  is  indicted  only  for  a  misdemeanor, 
and  it  would  be  absolute  inhumanity  to  keep  him 
here  ;  perhaps  that  lenity  might  have  a  good  effect, 
too." 

This  was  all  the  solicitor  wished  for.  He  was 
already  burning  to  strike  the  case  off  the  docket, 
and  send  Simon  home  ;  for  he  was  one  of  the  men 
that  could  never  look  real  grief  in  the  face  without 
a  tear  in  his  eye,  albeit  his  manner  was  as  rough 
as  a  Russian  bear's. 

So  the  solicitor  entered  his  nolle  prosequi,  and  the 
Captain  was  informed  that  he  was  at  liberty. 

"  May  it  please  your  honor,  judge,"  said  he,  pick- 
ing up  his  hat,  "  and  all  you  other  kind  gentlemen  " 
—  his  case  had  excited  universal  commiseration 
among  the  lawyers  —  "  that 's  taken  pity  on  a  poor 
broken-sperrited  man — God  bless  you  all  for  it  — it 's 
all  I  can  say  or  do  !  "     He  then  left  the  court-house. 

In  the  course  of  an  hour  or  two,  the  solicitor  had 
occasion  to  go  to  his  room  for  a  paper  or  book  he 
had  left  there.  On  his  way  to  the  tavern,  he  ob- 
served Captain  Suggs  standing  in  front  of  a  "  gro- 
cery," in  great  glee,  relating  some  laughable  anec- 
dote. He  was  astounded  !  He  called  to  him,  and 
the  Captain  came. 

"  Captain  Suggs,"  said  the  solicitor,  "  how  's  this  ? 
Why  are  you  not  on  the  way  home  ^  "  And  the  so- 
licitor frowned  like  —  as  only  /le  can  frown. 


SIMON  SUGGS.  75 

"Why,  bless  my  soul,  Jim,"  said  Suggs  familiarly, 
and  with  a  wicked  smile,  ''  ain't  you  Jiearn  about  it  ? 
These  here  boys  in  town "  —  here  Simon  himself 
frowned  savagely  —  "  I  '11  be  d — d  ef  I  don't  knock 
daylight  outen  some  on  'em,  a-sportin  wi  my  feel- 
ins,  that  way  '  They  'd  better  mind  ;  jokin  's  jokin', 
but  I  've  known  men  most  hellatiously  kicked  for  jist 
sich  jokes  !  " 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Belcher,  who  more  than 
suspected  that  he  had  been  *'  sold  "  —  "  how  was 
it  ? " 

"  You  see,"  quoth  Simon,  "  it  was  this  here  way, 
adzactly :  that  note  I  got  in  the  court-house  was  one 
Dr.  Jourdan  sent  me  last  summer,  when  the  boys 
was  sick,  and  I  was  on  a  spree  over  to  Sockapatoy, 
—  only  /  did  n't  know  'twas  the  same.  It  must  'a 
drapped  outen  my  pocket  here,  somehow,  and  some 
of  these  cussed  town  boys  picked  it  up,  tore  off  the 
date  at  the  bottom,  and  sent  it  to  me  up  thar  ;  which 
myfeelinswas  never  hurt  as  bad  before,  in  the  round 
world.  But  they  'd  better  mind  who  they  poke  thar 
fun  at !  No-o  man  ain't  got  to  sport  wi'  my  feelins 
that  way,  and  let  me  find  him  out!  —  Won't  you 
take  some  sperrits,  Jim  } " 

The  solicitor  turned  off  wrathfully,  and  walked 
away.  Simon  watched  him  as  he  went.  "  Thar," 
said  he,  "  goes  as  clever  a  feller  as  ever  toted  a  ugly 
head!  He's  smart,  \oo,  —  d — ^  smart  ;  but  thar's 
S077te  people  he  can't  qu-u-i-te,  ad-zact-ly  "  —  And 
without  finishing  the  sentence,  Captain  Suggs  pulled 
down  the  lower  lid  of  his  left  eye  with  the  fore- 
finger of  his  right  hand  ;  and  having  thus  impliedly 
complimented  himself,  he  walked  back  to  the  gro* 
eery. 


76  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 


IV. 


SIMON    "  FIGHTS    THE    TIGER." 

As  a  matter  of  course,  the  first  thing  that  engaged 
the  attention  of  Captain  Suggs  upon  his  arrival  in 
Tuskaloosa  was  his  proposed  attack  upon  his  enemy. 
Indeed,  he  scarcely  allowed  himself  time  to  bolt, 
without  mastication,  the  excellent  supper  served  to 
him  at  Duffie's,  ere  he  outsallied  to  engage  the  ad- 
versary. In  the  street,  he  suffered  not  himself  to  be 
beguiled  into  a  moment's  loitering,  even  by  the 
strange  sights  which,  under  other  circumstances, 
would  certainly  have  enchained  his  attention.  The 
windows  of  the  great  drug  store  cast  forth  their  blaze 
of  varied  light  in  vain  ;  the  music  of  a  fine  amateur 
band,  preparing  for  a  serenade,  was  no  music  for 
him  ;  he  paused  not  in  front  of  the  bookseller's,  to 
inspect  the  prints,  or  the  huge-lettered  advertising 
cards.  In  short,  so  eager  was  he  to  give  battle  to 
the  "  tiger  "  that  the  voice  of  the  ring-master,  as  it 
came  distinctly  into  the  street  from  the  circus,  the 
sharp  joke  of  the  clown,  and  the  perfectly-shadowed 
figures  of  "  Dandy  Jack  "  and  the  other  performers, 
whisking  rapidly  round  upon  the  canvas,  failed  to 
shake,  in  the  slightest  degree,  the  resolute  deter- 
mination of  the  courageous  and  indomitable  Cap- 
tain. 

As  he  hurried  along,  however,  with  the  long  stride 
of  the  backwoods,  hardly  turning  his  head,  and  to 
all  appearance  oblivious  altogether  of  things  exter- 
nal, he  held  occasional  ''  confabs  "  with  himself  in 
regard  to  the  unusual  objects  which  surrounded 
him  ;  for  Suggs  is  an  observant  man,  and  notes  with 


SIMON  SUGGS.  '/y 

much  accuracy  whatever  comes  before  him,  all  the 
while  a  body  would  suppose  him  to  be  asleep,  or  in  a 
"  turkey  dream  "  at  least.  On  the  present  occasion 
his  communings  with  himself  commenced  o^Dposite 
the  window  of  the  drug  store  :  "  Well,  thar  's  the 
most  deffrunt  sperrets  in  tJiat  grocery  ever  /  seed  ! 
Thar 's  koniac,  and  old  peach,  and  rectified,  and  lots 
I  can't  tell  thar  names !  That  light-yaller  bottle, 
tho',in  the  corner  thar, that's  Tennesj-^?^/  I  'd  know 
that  anywkar !  And  that  tother  bottle's  rot-gut,  ef 
I  know  myself  —  bit  a  drink,  I  reckon,  as  well 's  the 
rest !  What  a  power  o'  likker  they  do  keep  in  this 
here  town  ;  ef  I  warn't  goin'  to  run  agin  the  bank, 
I  'd  sample  some  of  it,  too,  I  reether  expect.  But  it 
don't  do  for  a  man  to  sperrets  much  when  he  's  pur^ 
suin'  the  beast" — 

**  H — 11  and  scissors  !  who  ever  seed  the  like  of 
the  books  !  Ain't  thar  a  pile  !  Do  wonder  what 
sort  of  a  office  them  fellers  in  thar  keeps,  makes 
'em  want  so  many  !  They  don't  read  'em  all^  I 
judge  !  Well,  mother-wit  kin  beat  book-larnin'  at 
any  game.  Thar  's  'Squire  Hadenskelt,  up  home, 
he's  got  two  cart-loads  of  law-books,  tho',  that's  no 
tech  to  this  feller's  ;  and  here  's  what  knocked  a  fifty 
outen  him  once,  at  short  cards,  afore  a  right  smart, 
active  sheep  could  flop  his  tail  ary  time,  and  kin  do 
it  agin,  whenever  he  gits  over  his  shyness  !  Human 
natur'  and  the  human  family  is  my  books,  and  I  've 
never  seed  many  but  what  I  could  hold  my  own 
with.  Let  me  git  one  o'  these  book-larnt  fellers 
over  a  bottle  of  "  old  corn  "  and  a  handful  of  the 
dokkyments,  and  I  'm  d — d  apt  to  git  what  he  knows, 
and  in  a  ginral  way  give  him  a  wrinkle  into  the 
bargain  !     Books  ain't  fitten  for  nothin'  but  jist  to 


y8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

give  to  childen  goin'  to  school,  to  keep  'em  outen 
mischief.  As  old  Jed'diah  used  to  say,  book-larnin' 
spiles  a  man  ef  he's  got  mother-wit,  and  ef  he  ain't 
got  that  it  don't  do  him  no  good  "  — 

"  Hello  agin  !  Here  's  a  sirkis,  and  ef  I  warn't  in 
a  hurry,  right  here  I  'd  drop  a  quarter,  providin'  I 
could  n't  fix  it  to  slip  in  for  nothin',  which  is  always 
the  cheapest  in  a  ginral  way." 

Thus  ruminating,  Simon  at  length  reached  Clare's. 
Passing  into  the  bar-room,  he  stood  a  moment,  look- 
ing around  to  ascertain  the  direction  in  which  he 
should  proceed  to  find  the  faro-banks,  which  he  had 
heard  were  nightly  exhibited  there.  In  a  corner  of 
the  room  he  discovered  a  stairway,  above  which 
was  burning  a  lurid-red  lamp.  Waiting  for  no  other 
indication,  he  strode  up  the  stairs.  At  the  landing- 
place  above  he  found  a  door,  which  was  closed  and 
locked,  but  light  came  through  the  key-hole,  and  the 
sharp  rattling  of  dice  and  jingling  of  coin  spoke 
conclusively  of  the  employment  of  the  occupants 
of  the  room. 

Simon  knocked. 

"  Hello  ! ''  said  somebody  within. 

"  Hello  yourself  !  "  said  the  Captain. 

"  What  do  you  want .? "  said  the  voice  from  the 
room. 

""  A  game,"  was  the  Captain's  laconic  answer. 

"  What 's  the  name  t  "  again  inquired  the  person 
within. 

"  Cash,"  said  Simon. 

'*  He  '11  do,"  said  another  person  in  the  room  ; 
"let  'Cash'  in." 

The  door  was  opened,  and  Simon  entered,  half 
blinded  by  the  sudden  burst  of  light  which  streamed 


SIMON  SUGGS.  79 

from  the  chandeliers  and  lamps,  and  was  reflected 
in  every  direction  by  the  mirrors,  which  almost 
walled  the  room.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  was  a 
small  but  unique  "bar,"  the  counter  of  which,  ex- 
cept a  small  space  occupied  by  a  sliding  door,  at 
which  customers  were  served,  was  inclosed  with  bur- 
nished brass  rods.  Within  this  "  magic  circle  "  stood 
a  pock-marked  clerk,  who  vended  to  the  company 
wines  and  liquors  too  costly  to  be  imbibed  by  any 
but  men  of  fortune  or  gamesters,  who,  alternately 
rich  and  penniless,  indulge  every  appetite  without 
stint  while  they  have  the  means  ;  eating  viands  and 
drinking  wines  one  day  which  a  prince  might  not 
disdain,  to  fast  entirely  the  next,  or  make  a  disgust- 
ing meal  from  the  dirty  counter  of  a  miserable  eat- 
ing-house. Disposed  at  regular  intervals  around 
the  room  were  tables  for  the  various  games  usually 
played,  all  of  them  thronged  with  eager  "  custom- 
ers," and  covered  with  heavy  piles  of  doubloons 
and  dollars  and  bank-notes.  Of  these  tables  the 
**  tiger  "  claimed  three  ;  for  faro  was  predominant  in 
those  days,  when  a  cell  in  a  penitentiary  was  not 
the  penalty  for  exhibiting  it.  Most  of  the  persons 
in  the  room  were  well  dressed,  and  a  large  propor- 
tion members  of  the  legislature.  There  was  very 
little  noise,  no  loud  swearing,  but  very  deep  playing. 

As  Simon  entered,  he  made  his  rustic  bow,  and  in 
an  easy,  familiar  way  saluted  the  company  with, — 

"  Good-evenin',  gentle;;^^;/.'" 

No  one  seemed  inclined  to  acknowledge,  on  be- 
half of  the  company,  their  pleasure  at  seeing  Cap- 
tain Suggs.  Indeed,  nobody  appeared  to  notice  him 
at  all  after  the  first  half  second.  The  Captain 
therefore  repeated  his  salutation  :  — 


80  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

'^  I  say,  good-evenin',  gentle;;^^;^  /  " 

Notwithstanding  the  emphasis  with  which  the 
words  were  re-spoken,  the-re  was  only  a  slight  laugh 
from  some  of  the  company,  and  the  Captain  began 
to  feel  a  little  awkward,  standing  up  before  so  many 
strangers.  While  he  was  hesitating  whether  to  be- 
gin business  at  once  by  walking  up  to  one  of  the  faro 
tables  and  commencing  the  "  fight,"  he  overheard 
a  young  man  standing  a  few  feet  from  him  say  to 
another,  — 

**  Jim,  is  n't  that  your  uncle,  General  Witherspoon, 
who  has  been  expected  here  for  several  days  with  a 
large  drove  of  hogs  ? " 

*'  By  Jupiter,"  said  the  person  addressed,  "  I  be- 
lieve it  is,  though  I  'm  not  certain,  as  I  have  n't 
seen  him  since  I  was  a  little  fellow.  But  what  makes 
you  think  it 's  him  .-^     You  never  saw  him." 

*'  No,  but  he  suits  the  description  given  of  your 
uncle,  very  well,  —  white  hair,  red  eyes,  wide  mouth, 
and  so  forth.     Does  your  uncle  gamble }  " 

"  They  say  he  does  ;  but  my  mother,  who  is  his 
sister,  knows  hardly  any  more  about  him  than  the 
rest  of  the  world.  We  've  only  seen  him  once  in 
fifteen  years.  I  '11  be  d — d,"  he  added,  looking 
steadfastly  at  Simon,  "  if  that  is  n't  he  !  He 's  as  rich 
as  mud,  and  a  jovial  old  cock  of  a  bachelor,  so  I 
must  claim  kin  with  him." 

Simon  could  of  course  have  no  reasonable  objec- 
tion to  being  believed  to  be  General  Thomas  With- 
erspoon, the  rich  hog  drover  from  Kentucky.  Not 
he  !  The  idea  pleased  him  excessively,  and  he  de- 
termined if  he  was  not  respected  as  General  Wither- 
spoon for  the  remainder  of  that  evening,  it  should  be 
''somebody  else's  fault,"  not  his  !     In  a  few  minutes, 


SIMON  SUGGS.  8 1 

indeed,  it  was  whispered  through  the  company  that 
the  red-eyed  man  with  white  hair  was  the  wealthy 
field-officer  who  drove  swine  to  increase  his  fortune  ; 
and  in  consequence  of  this,  Simon  thought  he  dis- 
covered a  very  considerable  improvement  in  the  way 
of  politeness,  on  the  part  of  all  present.  The  bare 
suspicion  that  he  was  rich  was  sufficient  to  induce 
deference  and  attention. 

Sauntering  up  to  a  faro-bank  with  the  intention 
of  betting,  while  bis  money  should  hold  out,  with 
the  spirit  and  liberality  which  General  Witherspoon 
would  have  displayed  had  he  been  personally  pres- 
ent, he  called  for 

"Twenty  five-dollar  checks,  and  that  pretty  tolo- 
ble  d — d  quick  !  " 

The  dealer  handed  him  the  red  checks,  and  he 
piled  them  upon  the  ''  ten." 

*'  Grind  on  !  "  said  Simon. 

A  card  or  two  was  dealt,  and  the  keeper,  with 
a  profound  bow,  handed  Simon  twenty  more  red 
checks. 

'*  Deal  away,"  said  Simon,  heaping  the  additional 
checks  on  the  same  card. 

Again  the  cards  flew  from  the  little  box,  and  again 
Simon  won. 

Several  persons  were  now  overlooking  the  game, 
and  among  the  rest  the  young  man  who  was  so 
happy  as  to  be  the  nephew  of  General  Witherspoon. 

"  The  old  codger  has  nerve  ;  I  '11  be  d — d  if  he 
has  n't,"  said  one. 

*'  And  money  too,"  said  another,  ''  from  the  way 
he  bets." 

"To  be  sure  he  has,"  said  a  third;  "that's  the 
rich  hog  drover  from  Kentucky," 

6 


82  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

By  this  time  Simon  had  won  seven  hundred  dol- 
lars. But  the  Captain  was  not  at  all  disposed  to 
discontinue.  "  Now,"  he  thought,  was  the  *'  golden 
moment "  in  which  to  press  his  luck  ;  **  now  "  the 
hour  of  the  '*  tiger's  "  doom,  when  he  should  be 
completely  flayed. 

"  That  brings  the  fat  in  great  fleeks  as  big  as  my 
arm  !  "  observed  the  Captain,  as  he  won  the  fifth 
consecutive  bet.  "  It 's  hooray,  brother  John,  every 
fire  a  turkey,  as  the  boy  said.  Here  goes  again  !  " 
and  he  staked  his  winnings  and  the  original  stake 
on  the  Jack. 

"  Gracious  heavens,  General !  I  would  n't  stake  so 
much  on  a  single  card,"  said  a  young  man  who  was 
inclined  to  boot-lick  anybody  suspected  of  having 
money. 

"  You  would  n't,  young  man,"  said  the  Captain, 
turning  round  and  facing  him,  *'  bekase  you  never 
tote  a  pile  of  that  size." 

The  obtrusive  individual  shrunk  back  under  this 
rebuke,  and  the  crowd  voted  Simon  not  only  a  man 
of  spunk,  but  a  man  of  wit. 

At  this  moment  the  Jack  won,  and  the  Captain 
was  better  off,  by  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  than  when 
he  entered  the  saloon. 

"That 's  better  —  jist  the  least  grain  in  the  world 
better^- than  drivin'  hogs  from  Kaintucky,  and  sell- 
in'  'em  at  four  cents  a  pound  !  "  triumphantly  re- 
marked Suggs. 

The  nephew  of  General  Witherspoon  was  now 
confident  that  Captain  Suggs  was  his  uncle.  He 
accordingly  pushed  up  to  him  with,  — 

'*  Don't  you  know  me,  uncle  .-*  "  at  the  same  time 
extending  his  hand. 


SIMON  SUGGS.  ^l 

Captain  Suggs  drew  himself  up  with  as  much  dig- 
nity as  he  supposed  the  individual  whom  he  person- 
ated would  have  assumed,  and  remarked  that  he  did 
not  know  the  young  man  then  in  his  immediate  pres- 
ence. 

"Don't  know  me,  uncle?  Why,  I'm  James  Pey- 
ton, your  sister's  son.  She  has  been  expecting  you 
for  several  days,"  said  the  much-humbled  nephew  of 
the  hog  drover. 

"  All  very  well,  Mr.  Jeemes  Peyton,  but  as  this 
little  world  of  ourn  is  tolloble  d — d  full  of  rascally 
impostors,  and  gentle;;/^;^  of  my  —  that  is  to  say  — 
you  see  —  persons  that  have  got  somethin',  is  apt  to 
be  tuk  in,  it  stands  a  man  in  hand  to  be  a  leetle  per- 
ticler.  So  jist  answer  me  a  strait  forrard  question 
or  two,"  said  the  Captain,  subjecting  Mr.  Peyton  to 
a  test  which,  if  applied  to  himself,  would  have  blown 
him  sky-high.  But  Simon  was  determined  to  place 
his  own  identity  as  General  Witherspoon  above  sus- 
picion, by  seeming  to  suspect  something  wrong 
about  Mr.  James  Peyton. 

"  Oh,"  said  several  of  the  crowd,  "  everybody 
knows  he  's  the  widow  Peyton's  son,  and  your  neph- 
ew, of  course." 

"  Wait  for  the  wagin,  gentle;;^^^,"  said  Simon. 
*'  Everybody  has  given  me  several  sons,  which,  as  I 
ain't  married,  I  don't  want ;  and,"  added  he,  with  a 
very  facetious  v/ink  and  smile,  '*  I  don't  care  about 
takin'  a  nephy  on  the  same  terms  without  he's  gini- 
wine." 

*'  Oh,  he 's  genuine,"  said  several  at  once. 

"  Hold  on,  gent\Q7nen ;  this  young  man  might 
want  to  borrow  money  of  me  "  — 

Mr.  Peyton  protested  against  any  such  supposition. 


84  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"Oh,  well!"  said  the  Captain,  **/  might  want  to 
borrer  oi  yoit,  and  "  — 

Mr.  Peyton  signified  his  willingness  to  lend  his 
uncle  the  last  dollar  in  his  pocket-book. 

*'  Very  good  !  very  good  !  but  /  happen  to  be  a 
little  7iotiony  about  sich  matters.  It  ain't  every  man 
I  'd  borrow  from.  Before  I  handle  a  man's  money 
in  the  way  of  borrerin',  in  the  fust  place  I  must  know 
him  to  be  a  gentleman  ;  in  the  second  place,  he  must 
be  my  friend  ;  and  in  the  third  place,  I  must  think 
he  's  both  able  and  willin'  to  afford  the  accommoda- 
tion "  —  and  the  Captain  paused  and  looked  around 
to  receive  the  applause  which  he  knew  must  be  elic- 
ited by  the  magnanimity  of  the  sentiment. 

The  applause  did  come  ;  and  the  crowd  thought, 
while  they  gave  it,  how  difficult  and  desirable  a  thing 
it  would  be  to  lend  money  to  General  Thomas  With- 
erspoon,  the  rich  hog  drover. 

The  Captain  now  resumed  his  examination  of  Mr. 
Peyton. 

"  What 's  your  mother's  fust  name  t  "  he  asked. 

"  Sarah,"  said  Mr.  Peyton,  meekly. 

"  Right,  so  fur  !  "  said  the  Captain,  with  a  smile 
of  approval.     "  How  many  children  has  she  .'*  " 

"Two,  —  myself  and  brother  Tom." 

"■  Right  again  !  "  observed  the  Captain.  "  Tom, 
gentlew^/z,"  added  he,  turning  to  the  crowd,  and 
venturing  a  shrewd  guess,  —  **  Tom,  gentlew^«,  was 
named  arter  me.  War  n't  he,  sir  t  "  said  he  to  Mr. 
Peyton,  sternly. 

"  He  was,  sir  ;  his  name  is  Thomas  Witherspoon." 

Captain  Suggs  bobbed  his  head  at  the  company, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "/  knew  it ; "  and  the  crowd,  in 
their  own  minds,  decided  that  the  soi-disant  General 


SIMON  SUGGS.  85 

Witherspoon  was  ''a  devilish  sharp  old  cock,"  — 
and  the  crowd  was  n't  far  out  of  the  way. 

Simon  was  not  acting  in  this  matter  without  an 
object.  He  intended  to  make  a  bold  attempt  to  win 
a  small  fortune,  and  he  thought  it  quite  possible  he 
should  lose  the  money  he  had  won,  in  which  case  it 
would  be  convenient  to  have  the  credit  of  General 
Witherspoon  to  operate  upon. 

"  Gentlew^;/,"  said  he  to  the  company,  with  whom 
he  had  become  vastly  popular,  ''your  attention,  one 
moment,  ef  you  please." 

The  company  accorded  him  its  most  obsequious 
attention. 

"  Come  here,  Jeemes  !  " 

Mr.  James  Peyton  approached  to  within  eighteen 
inches  of  his  supposititious  uncle,  who  raised  his 
hands  above  the  young  man's  head  in  the  most  im- 
pressive manner. 

"  One  and  all,  gentle;;/^;/,"  said  he,  "  I  call  on  you 
to  witness  that  I  reckognize  this  here  young  man  as 
my  proper  giniwine  nephy,  — my  sister  Sally's  son  ; 
and  wish  him  respected  as  sich.  Jeemes,  hug  your 
old  uncle ! " 

Young  Mr.  James  Peyton  and  Captain  Simon 
Suggs  then  embraced.  Several  of  the  by-standers 
laughed,  but  a  large  majority  sympathized  with  the 
Captain.  A  few  wept  at  the  affecting  sight,  and 
one  person  expressed  the  opinion  that  nothing  so 
soul-moving  had  ever  before  taken  place  in  the  city 
of  Tuskaloosa.  As  for  Simon,  the  tears  rolled  down 
his  face  as  natural'y  as  if  they  had  been  called  forth 
by  real  emotion,  instead  of  being  pumped  up  me- 
chanically to  give  effect  to  the  scene. 

Captain  Suggs  now  renewed  the  engagement  with 


S6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE, 

the  "  tiger,"  which  had  been  temporarily  suspended 
that  he  might  satisfy  himself  of  the  identity  of 
James  Peyton.  But  the  "fickle  goddess,"  jealous  of 
his  attention  to  the  nephew  of  General  Witherspoon, 
had  deserted  him  in  a  pet. 

"  Thar  goes  a  dozen  d — d  fine,  fat  hogs !  "  said 
the  Captain,  as  the  bank  won  a  bet  of  two  hundred 
dollars. 

Suggs  shifted  about  from  card  to  card,  but  the 
bank  won  always.  At  last  he  thought  it  best  to  re- 
turn to  the  ''  ten,"  upon  which  he  bet  five  hundred 
dollars. 

"  Now,  I  '11  wool  you,"  said  he. 

"  Next  time  !  "  said  the  dealer,  as  he  threw  the 
winning  card  upon  his  own  pile. 

"  That  makes  my  hogs  squeal,"  said  the  Captain ; 
and  everybody  admired  the  fine  wit  and  nerve  of 
the  hog  drover. 

In  half  an  hour  Suggs  was  '*  as  flat  as  a  flounder." 
Not  a  dollar  remained  of  his  winnings  or  his  original 
stake.  It  was  therefore  time  to  *'run  his  face,"  or 
rather  the  "face"  of  General  Witherspoon. 

"  Could  a  body  bet  a  few  mighty  fine  bacon  hogs 
agin  money  at  this  table  "t "  he  inquired. 

The  dealer  would  be  happy  to  accommodate  the 
General  upon  his  word  of  honor. 

It  was  not  long  before  Suggs  had  bet  off  a  very 
considerable  number  of  the  very  fine  hogs  in  Gen- 
eral Witherspoon's  uncommonly  fine  drove.  He 
began  to  feel,  too,  as  if  a  meeting  with  the  veritable 
drover  might  be  very  disagreeable.  He  began,  there- 
fore, to  entertain  serious  notions  of  borrowing  some 
money  and  leaving  in  the  stage  that  night  for 
Greensboro'.     Honor  demanded,    however,  that  he 


SIMON  SUGGS.  Zj 

should    ''  settle "    to   the  satisfaction  of  the  dealer. 
He  accordingly  called, — 

"  Jeemes  !  " 

Mr.  Peyton  responded  very  promptly  to  the  call. 

"  Now,"  said  Simon,  "  Jeemes,  I  'm  a  little  behind 
to  this  gentleman  here,  and  I  'm  obleeged  to  go  to 
Greensboro'  in  to-night's  stage,  on  account  of  seein' 
ef  I  can  engage  pork  thar.  Now  ef  /  should  n't  be 
Jiere  when  my  hogs  come  in,  do  yoii,  Jeemes,  take 
this  gentleman  to  wharever  the  boys  puts  'em  up, 
and  let  him  pick  thirty  of  the  finest  in  the  drove. 
D  'ye  hear,  Jeemes  }  " 

James  promised  to  attend  to  the  delivery  of  the 
hosfs. 

"  Is  that  satisfactory  .''  "  asked  Simon. 

"  Perfectly,"  said  the  dealer.  "  Let  's  take  a 
drink." 

Before  the  Captain  went  up  to  the  bar  to  drink, 
he  patted  "  Jeemes "  upon  the  shoulder,  and  in- 
timated that  he  desired  to  speak  to  him  privately. 
Mr.  Peyton  was  highly  delighted  at  this  mark  of  his 
rich  uncle's  confidence,  and  turned  his  head  to  see 
whether  the  company  noted  it.  Having  ascertained 
that  they  did,  he  accompanied  his  uncle  to  an  un- 
occupied part  of  the  saloon. 

"Jeemes,"  said  the  Captain  thoughtfully,  *' has 
your  —  mother  bought  —  her  —  her  —  pork  yet  .-*  " 

James  said  she  had  not. 

"Well,  Jeemes,  when  my  drove  comes  in,  do  you 
go  down  and  pick  her  out  ten  of  the  best.  Tell  the 
boys  to  show  you  them  new  breed,  —  the  Berk- 
shears." 

Mr.  Peyton  made  his  grateful  acknowledgments 
for  his  untle's  generosity,  and  they  started  back  to 


88  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

wards  the  crowd.     Before  they  had  advanced  more 
than  a  couple  of  steps,  however,  — 

"  Stop ! "  said  Simon.  *'  I  'd  like  to  'a'  forgot.  Have 
you  as  much  as  a  couple  of  hunderd  by  you,  Jeemes, 
that  I  could  use  twell  I  git  back  from  Greens- 
boro' }  " 

Mr.  Peyton  was  very  sorry  he  had  n't  more  than 
fifty  dollars  about  him.  His  uncle  could  take  that, 
however,  —  as  he  did  forthwith,  —  and  he  would 
"jump  about"  and  get  the  balance  in  ten  minutes. 

"  Don't  do  it,  ef  it 's  any  trouble  at  all,  Jeemes," 
said  the  Captain,  cunningly. 

But  Mr.  James  Peyton  was  determined  that  he 
would  "  raise  the  wind "  for  his  uncle,  let  the 
"trouble"  be  what  it  might  ;  and  so  energetic  were 
his  endeavors  that  in  a  few  moments  he  returned 
to  the  Captain,  and  handed  him  the  desired  amount. 

''Much  obleeged  to  you,  Jeemes  ;  I'll  remember 
you  for  this."  And  no  doubt  the  Captain  has  kept 
his  word  ;  for  whenever  he  makes  a  promise  which 
it  costs  nothing  to  perform.  Captain  Simon  Suggs  is 
the  most  punctual  of  men. 

After  Suggs  had  taken  a  glass  of  "  sperrets  "  with 
his  friend  the  dealer,  whom  he  assured  he  consid- 
ered the  "smartest  and  cleverest"  fellow  out  of  Ken- 
tucky, he  wished  to  retire.  But  just  as  he  was  leav- 
ing it  was  suggested  in  his  hearing  that  an  oyster 
supper  would  be  no  inappropriate  way  of  testifying 
his  joy  at  meeting  his  clever  nephew  and  so  many 
true-hearted  friends. 

"  Ah,  gentlem^;/,  the  old  hog  drover 's  broke  now, 
or  he  'd  be  proud  to  treat  to  something  of  the  sort. 
They  've  knocked  the  leaf  fat  outen  him  to-night,  in 
wads  as  big  as  mattock  iiandles,"  observed  Suggs, 


SIMON  SUGGS.  89 

looking  at  the  bar-keeper  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
left  eye. 

"  Anything  this  house  affords  is  at  the  disposal 
of  General  Witherspoon,"  said  the  bar-keeper. 

**  Well !  well  !"  said  Simon,  ''you're  all  so  clever, 
I  must  stand  it,  I  suppose,  tho'  I  ought  n't  to  be  so 
extravagant." 

"Take  the  crowd,  sir  }  " 

*'  Certainly,"  said  Simon. 

"  How  much  champagne,  General  "^ " 

"  I  reckon  we  can  make  out  with  a  couple  of  bas- 
kets,"  said  the  Captain,  who  was  determined  to  sus- 
tain any  reputation  for  liberality  which  General 
Witherspoon  might,  perchance,  possess. 

There  was  a  considerable  ringing  of  bells  for  a 
brief  space,  and  then  a  door,  which  Simon  had  n't  be- 
fore seen,  was  thrown  open,  and  the  company  ush- 
ered into  a  handsome  supping  apartment.  Seated  at 
the  convivial  board,  the  Captain  outshone  himself  ; 
and  to  this  day  some  of  the  bo7i  mots  which  escaped 
him  on  that  occasion  are  remembered  and  repeated. 

At  length,  after  the  proper  quantity  of  champagne 
and  oysters  had  been  swallowed,  the  young  man 
whom  Simon  had  so  signally  rebuked  early  in  the 
evening  rose,  and  remarked  that  he  had  a  sentiment 
to  propose.  "I  give  you,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "the 
health  of  General  Witherspoon.  Long  may  he  live, 
and  often  may  he  visit  our  city  and  partake  of  its 
hospitaUties  !  " 

Thunders  of  applause  followed  this  toast,  and 
Suggs,  as  in  duty  bound,  got  up  in  his  chair  to  re- 
spond. 

"  Gentle;;^^;^,"  said  he,  "  I  'm  devilish  glad  to  see 
you  all,  and  much  obleeged  to  you,  besides.     You 


QO  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

are  the  finest  people  I  ever  was  amongst,  and  treat 
me  a  d — d  sight  better  than  they  do  at  home  "  — 
which  was  a  fact  !  "  Hows'ever,  I  'm  a  poor  hand 
to  speak,  but  here 's  wishing  of  luck  to  you  all,"  — 
and  then  wickedly  seeming  to  blunder  in  his  little 
speech,  —  ''and  if  I  forgit  you,  I  '11  be  d — d  if  you  '11 
ever  forgit  me  !  " 

Again  there  was  a  mixed  noise  of  human  voices, 
plates,  knives  and  forks,  glasses,  and  wine  bottles, 
and  then  the  company  agreed  to  disperse.  "  What 
a  noble-hearted  fellow ! "  exclaimed  a  dozen  in  a 
breath,  as  they  were  leaving. 

As  Simon  and  Peyton  passed  out,  the  bar-keeper 
handed  the  former  a  slip  of  paper,  containing  such 
items  as  "  twenty-seven  dozen  of  oysters,  twenty- 
seven  dollars  ;  two  baskets  of  champagne,  thirty-six 
dollars,"  —  making  a  grand  total  of  sixty-three  dol- 
lars. 

The  Captain,  who  "  felt  his  wine,"  only  hiccoughed, 
nodded  at  Peyton,  and  observed,  — 

"  Jeemes,  you  '11  attend  to  this  .-*  " 

"  Jeemes  "  said  he  would,  and  the  pair  walked  out 
and  bent  their  way  to  the  stage-office,  where  the 
Greensboro'  coach  was  already  drawn  up.  Simon 
would  n't  wake  the  hotel  keeper  to  get  his  saddle- 
bags, because,  as  he  said,  he  would  probably  return 
in  a  day  or  two. 

"Jeemes,"  said  he,  as  he  held  that  individual's 
hand,  —  "Jeemes,  has  your  mother  bought  her  pork 
yet .? " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Peyton  ;  "  you  know  you  told  me 
to  take  ten  of  your  hogs  for  her,  —  don't  you  recol- 
lect } " 

"  Don't  do  that,"  said  Simon,  sternly. 


"  Take  twenty  !  "  said  the  Captain.     See  page  91. 


SIMON  SUGGS.  91 

Peyton  stood  aghast !     "  Why,  sir  ?  "  he  asked. 

**  Take  twenty  !  "  said  the  Captain,  and,  wringing 
the  hand  he  held,  he  bounced  into  the  coach,  which 
whirled  away,  leaving  Mr.  James  Peyton  on  the 
pavement,  in  profound  contemplation  of  the  bound- 
less generosity  of  his  uncle,  General  Thomas  With- 
erspoon  of  Kentucky  ! 


FLUSH   TIMES. 


It  is  now  nearly  thirty  years  since  the  publication  of  "  The  Flush 
Times  of  Alabama  and  Mississippi,  by  Joseph  G.  Baldwin,"  and, 
although  the  volume  abounds  with  graphic  anecdotes  of  the  South 
during  the  period  extending  from  1830  to  1S50,  and  is  both  entertain- 
ing and  illustrative,  it  is  out  of  print.  Its  author,  Judge  Baldwin,  was 
in  his  day  a  lawyer  of  repute,  who  late  in  life  migrated  to  California. 
His  sketches  have  the  merit  of  fidelity  to  truth  as  well  as  local  color. 


I. 


HOW   THE   TIMES    SERVED    THE   VIRGINIANS.  —  VIRGINIANS 

IN    A    NEW    COUNTRY.  THE    RISE,    DECLINE,    AND    FALL 

OF    THE    RAG    EMPIRE. 

The  disposition  to  be  proud  and  vain  of  one's 
country,  and  to  boast  of  it,  is  a  natural  feeling,  in- 
dulged or  not  in  respect  to  the  pride,  vanity,  and 
boasting,  according  to  the  character  of  the  native  ; 
but  with  a  Virginian  it  is  a  passion.  It  inheres  in 
him,  even  as  the  flavor  of  a  York  River  oyster  in 
that  bivalve  ;  and  no  distance  of  deportation,  and  no 
trimmings  of  a  gracious  prosperity,  and  no  pickling 
in  the  sharp  acids  of  adversity  can  destroy  it.  It  is 
a  part  of  the  Virginia  character,  just  as  the  flavor 
is  a  distinctive  part  of  the  oyster,  "which  cannot, 
save  by  annihilating,  die."  It  is  no  use  talking  about 
it ;  the  thing  may  be  right,  or  wrong :  like  Fal- 
staff's  victims  at  Gadshill,  it  is  past  praying  for  :  it 


FLUSH  TIMES.  93 

is  a  sort  of  cocoa  grass  that  has  got  into  the  soil, 
and  has  so  matted  over  it,  and  so  fibred  through 
it,  as  to  have  become  a  part  of  it ;  at  least,  there  is 
no  telling  which  is  the  grass  and  which  is  the  soil  ; 
and  certainly  it  is  useless  labor  to  try  to  root  it  out. 
You  may  destroy  the  soil,  but  you  can't  root  out  the 


grass. 


Patriotism  with  a  Virginian  is  a  noun  personal. 
It  is  the  Virginian  himself,  and  something  over.  He 
loves  Virginia /^r  se  diud  propter  se  ;  he  loves  her  for 
herself  and  for  himself  ;  because  she  is  Virginia 
and  —  everything  else  beside.  He  loves  to  talk 
about  her  :  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  speaketh.  It  makes  no  odds  where  he  goes, 
he  carries  Virginia  with  him  ;  not  in  the  entirety, 
always,  but  the  little  spot  he  came  from  is  Virginia ; 
as  Swedenborg  says,  the  smallest  part  of  the  brain 
is  an  abridgment  of  all  of  it.  *'  Ccehmiy  no7i  animum^ 
mutant  qui  trajts  mare  ciimmtl'  was  made  for  a 
Virginian.  He  never  gets  acclimated  elsewhere  ; 
he  never  loses  citizenship  to  the  old  home.  The 
right  of  expatriation  is  a  pure  abstraction  to  him. 
He  may  breathe  in  Alabama,  but  he  lives  in  Vir- 
ginia. His  treasure  is  there,  and  his  heart  also.  If 
he  looks  at  the  Delta  of  the  Mississippi,  it  reminds 
him  of  James  River  "  low  grounds  ; ''  if  he  sees  the 
vast  prairies  of  Texas,  it  is  a  memorial  of  the 
meadows  of  the  Valley.  Richmond  is  the  centre  of 
attraction,  the  depot  of  all  that  is  grand,  great,  good, 
and  glorious.  *'It  is  the  Kentucky  of  a  place"  which 
the  preacher  described  heaven  to  be  to  the  Ken- 
tucky congregation. 

Those  who  came  many  years  ago  from  the  borough 
towns,  especially  from  the  vicinity  of  Williamsburg, 


94  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

exceed,  in  attachment  t©  their  birthplace,  if  possible, 
the  hnigres  from  the  metropolis.  It  is  refreshing,  in 
these  costermonger  times,  to  hear  them  speak  of  it  : 
they  remember  it  when  the  old  burg  was  the  seat 
of  fashion,  taste,  refinement,  hospitality,  wealth,  wit, 
and  all  social  graces  ;  when  genius  threw  its  spell 
over  the  public  assemblages  and  illumined  the  halls 
of  justice,  and  when  beauty  brightened  the  social 
hour  with  her  unmatched  and  matchless  brilliancy. 
Then  the  spirited  and  gifted  youths  of  the  College 
of  old  William  and  Mary,  some  of  them  just  giving 
out  the  first  scintillations  of  the  genius  that  after- 
wards shone  refulgent  in  the  forum  and  the  Senate, 
added  to  the  attractions  of  a  society  gay,  cultivated, 
and  refined  beyond  example,  even  in  the  Old  Do- 
minion. A  hallowed  charm  seems  to  rest  upon  the 
venerable  city,  clothing  its  very  dilapidation  in  a 
drapery  of  romance  and  of  serene  and  classic  inter- 
est, as  if  all  the  sweet  and  softened  splendor  which 
invests  the  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream "  were 
poured  in  a  flood  of  mellow  and  poetic  radiance  over 
the  now  quiet  and  half  "  deserted  village."  There 
is  something  in  the  shadow  from  the  old  college 
walls,  cast  by  the  moon  upon  the  grass  and  sleeping 
on  the  sward,  that  throws  a  like  shadow,  soft,  sad, 
and  melancholy,  upon  the  heart  of  the  returning  pil- 
grim who  saunters  out  to  view  again,  by  moonlight, 
his  old  Alma  Mater,  the  nursing  mother  of  such  a 
list  and  such  a  line  of  statesmen  and  heroes. 

There  is  nothing  presumptuously  froward  in  this- 
Virginianism.     The  Virginian  does  not  make  broad 
his  phylacteries,  and  crow  over  the  poor  Carolinian 
and  Tennesseeian.     He  does  not  reproach  him  with 
his  misfortune  of  birthplace.     No,  he  thinks  the  af- 


FLUSH  TIMES.  95 

fliction  is  enough  without  the  triumph.  The  fran- 
chise of  having  been  born  in  Virginia  and  the  pre- 
rogative founded  thereon  are  too  patent  of  honor  and 
distinction  to  be  arrogantly  pretended.  The  bare 
mention  is  enough.  He  finds  occasion  to  let  the 
fact  be  known,  and  then  the  fact  is  fully  able  to 
protect  and  take  care  of  itself.  Like  a  ducal  title, 
there  is  no  need  of  saying  more  than  to  name  it ; 
modesty  then  is  a  becoming  and  expected  virtue  ; 
forbearance  to  boast  is  true  dignity. 

The  Virginian  is  a  magnanimous  man.  He  never 
throws  up  to  a  Yankee  the  fact  of  his  birthplace. 
He  feels  on  the  subject  as  a  man  of  delicacy  feels 
in  alluding  to  a  rope  in  the  presence  of  a  person  one 
of  whose  brothers  "  stood  upon  nothing  and  kicked 
at  the  United  States,"  or  to  a  female  indiscretion 
where  there  had  been  scandal  concerning  the  fam- 
ily. So  far  do  they  carry  this  refinement,  that  I  have 
known  one  of  my  countrymen,  on  occasion  of  a  Bos- 
tonian  owning  where  he  was  born,  generously  pro- 
test that  he  had  never  heard  of  it  before.  As  if 
honest  confession  half  obliterated  the  shame  of  the 
fact.  Yet  he  does  not  lack  the  grace  to  acknowl- 
edge worth  or  merit  in  another,  wherever  the  native 
place  of  that  other  :  for  it  is  a  common  thing  to  hear 
them  say  of  a  neighbor  :  '*  He  is  a  clever  fellow, 
tJwiigJi  he  did  come  from  New  Jersey,  or  even  Con- 
necticut." 

In  politics  the  Virginian  is  learned  much  beyond 
what  is  written,  for  they  have  heard  a  great  deal 
of  speaking  on  that  prolific  subject,  especially  by 
one  or  two  Randolphs  and  any  number  of  Barbours. 
They  read  the  same  papers  here  they  read  in  Vir- 
ginia, the  "Richmond  Enquirer"  and  the  "Richmond 


96  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Whig."  The  democrat  stoutly  asseverates  a  fact, 
and  gives  "  The  Enquirer  "  as  his  authority  with  an 
air  that  means  to  say,  tJiat  settles  it  ;  while  the  whig 
quoted  Hampden  Pleasants  with  the  same  confi- 
dence. But  the  faculty  of  personalizing  everything, 
which  the  exceeding  social  turn  of  a  Virginian  gives 
him,  rarely  allowed  a  reference  to  the  paper,  eo  nom- 
hie ;  but  made  him  refer  to  the  editor,  as  *'  Ritchie" 
said  so  and  so,  or  **  Hampden  Pleasants  "  said  this 
or  that.  When  two  of  opposite  politics  got  together, 
it  was  amusing,  if  you  had  nothing  else  to  do  that 
day,  to  hear  the  discussion.  I  never  knew  a  debate 
that  did  not  start  ab  tirbe  condita.  '  They  not  only 
went  back  to  first  principles,  but  also  to  first  times  ; 
nor  did  I  ever  hear  a  discussion  in  which  old  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson  did  not  figure  —  as  if 
an  interminable  dispute  had  been  going  on  for  so 
many  generations  between  those  disputatious  per- 
sonages ;  as  if  the  quarrel  had  begun  before  time, 
but  was  not  to  end  with  it.  But  the  strangest  part 
of  it  to  me  was,  that  the  dispute  seemed  to  be  going 
on  without  poor  Adams  having  any  defence  or  cham- 
pion ;  and  never  waxed  hotter  than  when  both  par- 
ties agreed  in  denouncing  the  man  of  Braintree  as 
the  worst  of  public  sinners  and  the  vilest  of  political 
heretics.  They  both  agreed  on  one  thing,  and  that 
was  to  refer  the  matter  to  the  Resolutions  of  1798- 
99  ;  which  said  resolutions,  like  Goldsmith's  "  Good- 
Natured  Man,"  arbitrating  between  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Croaker,  seemed  so  impartial  that  they  agreed  with 
both  parties  on  every  occasion. 

Nor  do  I  recollect  of  hearing  any  question  debated 
that  did  not  resolve  itself  into  a  question  of  consti- 
tution,  strict  construction,  etc.,  —  the  constitution 


FLUSH   TIMES.  97 

being  a  thing  of  that  curious  virtue  that  its  chief  ex- 
cellency consisted  in  not  allowing  the  government 
to  do  anything  ;  or  in  being  a  regular  prize-fighter 
that  knocked  all  laws  and  legislators  into  a  cocked 
hat,  except  those  of  the  objector's  party. 

Frequent  reference  was  reciprocally  made  to 
"  gorgons,  hydras,  and  chimeras  dire,"  to  black  cock- 
ades, blue  lights,  Essex  juntos,  the  Reign  of  Terror, 
and  some  other  mystic  entities  ;  but  who  or  what 
these  monsters  were,  I  never  could  distinctly  learn  ; 
and  was  surprised,  on  looking  into  the  history  of  the 
country,  to  find  that,  by  some  strange  oversight,  no 
allusion  was  made  to  them. 

Great  is  the  Virginian's  reverence  of  great  men, 
that  is  to  say,  of  great  Virginians.  This  reverence 
is  not  Unitarian.  He  is  a  Polytheist.  He  believes 
in  a  multitude  of  Virginia  gods.  As  the  Romans  of 
every  province  and  village  had  their  tutelary  or  other 
divinities,  besides  having  divers  national  gods,  so  the 
Virginian  of  every  county  has  his  great  man,  the 
like  of  whom  cannot  be  found  in  the  new  country 
he  has  exiled  himself  to.  This  sentiment  of  venera- 
tion for  talent,  especially  for  speaking  talent  ;  this 
amiable  propensity  to  lionize  men,  is  not  peculiar  to 
any  class  of  Virginians  among  us  :  it  abides  in  all. 
I  was  amused  to  hear  "old  Culpepper,"  as  w^e  call 
him  (by  nickname  derived  from  the  county  he  came 
from),  declaiming  in  favor  of  the  Union.  ''  What, 
gentlemen,"  said  the  old  man,  w^ith  a  sonorous  swell 

—  "  what  burst  up  this  glorious  Union  !  and  who, 
if  this  Union  is  torn  up,  could  write  another  }  No- 
body except  Henry  Clay  and  J.  S.  B.  of  Culpepper 

—  and  may  be  they  would  n't  —  and  what  then  would 
you  do  for  another  t  " 

7 


98  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

The  greatest  compliment  a  Virginian  can  ever  pay 
to  a  speaker  is  to  say  that  he  reminds  him  of  a  Colo- 
nel Broadhorn  or  a  Captain  Smith,  who  represented 
some  royal-named  county  some  forty  years  or  less 
in  the  Virginia  House  of  Delegates  ;  and  of  whom 
the  auditor  of  course  has  heard,  as  he  made  several 
speeches  in  the  capitol  at  Richmond.  But  the  force 
of  the  compliment  is  somewhat  broken  by  a  long 
narrative,  in  which  the  personal  reminiscences  of  the 
speaker  go  back  to  sundry  sketches  of  the  Virginia 
statesman's  efforts,  and  recapitulations  of  his  say- 
ings interspersed, /^r/<2r^;////£i-^,  with  many  valuable 
notes  illustrative  of  his  pedigree  and  performances  ; 
the  whole  of  which,  given  with  great  historical  fidel- 
ity of  detail,  leaves  nothing  to  be  wished  for  except 
the  point,  or  rather  two  point^s,  — the  gist  and  the 
period. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  Virginia  is  the  land  of 
orators,  heroes,  and  statesmen  ;  and  that,  directly  or 
indirectly,  she  has  exerted  an  influence  upon  the 
national  councils  nearly  as  great  as  all  the  rest  of 
the  States  combined.  It  is  wonderful  that  a  State 
of  its  size  and  population  should  have  turned  out 
such  an  unprecedented  quantum  of  talent,  and  of 
talent  as  various  in  kind  as  prodigious  in  amount. 
She  has  reason  to  be  proud  ;  and  the  other  States 
so  largely  in  her  debt  (for,  from  Cape  May  to  Puget's 
Sound  she  has  colonized  the  other  States  and  the 
Territories  with  her  surplus  talent,)  ought  to  allow 
her  the  harmless  privilege  of  a  little  bragging.  In 
the  showy  talent  of  oratory  has  she  especially  shone. 
To  accomplish  her  in  this  art  the  State  has  been 
turned  into  a  debating  society,  and  while  she  has 
been  talkmor  for  the  benefit  of  the   nation,  as  she 


FLUSH  TIMES.  99 

thought,  the  other,  and  by  nature  less  favored  States, 
have  been  doing  for  their  own.  Consequently,  what 
she  has  gained  in  reputation,  she  has  lost  in  wealth 
and  material  aids.  Certainly  the  Virginia  character 
has  been  less  distinguished  for  its  practical  than  its 
ornamental  traits,  and  for  its  business  quaHties  than 
for  its  speculative  temper.  Cui  bojio  and  utilitarian- 
ism, at  least  until  latterly,  were  not  favorite  or  con- 
genial inquiries  and  subjects  of  attention  to  the  Vir- 
ginia politician.  What  the  Virginian  was  upon  his 
native  soil,  that  he  was  abroad  ;  indeed,  it  may  be 
said  that  the  amor patrice,  strengthened  by  absence, 
made  him  more  of  a  conservative  abroad  than  h^ 
would  have  been  if  he  had  stayed  at  home,  for  most 
of  them  here  would  not,  had  they  been  consulted, 
have  changed  either  of  the  old  Constitutions. 

It  is  far,  however,  from  my  purpose  to  treat  of  such 
themes.  I  only  glance  at  them  to  show  their  influ- 
ence on  the  character  as  it  was  developed  on  a  new 
theatre. 

Eminently  social  and  hospitable,  kind,  humane,  and 
generous,  is  a  Virginian,  at  home  or  abroad.  They 
are  so  by  nature  and  habit.  These  qualities  and 
their  exercise  develop  and  strengthen  other  virtues. 
By  reason  of  these  social  traits,  they  necessarily  be- 
come well  mannered,  honorable,  spirited,  and  care- 
ful of  reputation,  desirous  of  pleasing,  and  skilled 
in  the  accomplishments  which  please.  Their  insular 
position  and  sparse  population,  mostl}^  rural,  and 
easy  but  not  affluent  fortunes,  kept  them  from  the 
artificial  refinements  and  the  strong  temptations 
which  corrupt  so  much  of  the  society  of  the  Old 
World  and  some  portions  of  the  New.  There  was 
no  character  more  attractive  than  that  of  a  young 


100  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Virginian,  fifteen  years  ago,  of  intelligence,  of  good 
family,  education,  and  breeding. 

It  was  of  the  instinct  of  a  Virginian  to  seek  so- 
ciety ;  he  belongs  to  the  gregarious,  not  to  the  soli- 
tary division  of  animals  ;  and  society  can  only  be 
kept  up  by  grub  and  gab  —  something  to  eat,  and, 
if  not  something  to  talk  about,  talk.  Accordingly 
they  came  accomplished  already  in  the  knowledge 
and  the  talent  for  these  important  duties. 

A  Virginian  could  always  get  up  a  good  dinner. 
He  could  also  do  his  share  —  a  full  hand's  work  —  in 
disposing  of  one  after  it  was  got  up.  The  qualifica- 
tions for  hostmanship  were  signal  —  the  old  Udaller 
himself,  assisted  by  Claud  Halrco,  could  not  do  up 
the  thing  in  better  style,  or  with  a  heartier  relish, 
or  a  more  cordial  hospitality.  In  petite  manners  — 
the  little  attentions  of  the  table,  the  filling  up  of  the 
chinks  of  the  conversation  with  small  fugitive  ob- 
servations, the  supplying  the  hooks  and  eyes  that 
kept  the  discourse  together,  the  genial  good  humor, 
which,  like  that  of  the  family  of  the  good  Vicar, 
made  up  in  laughter  what  was  wanting  in  wit,  —  in 
these,  and  in  the  science  of  getting  up  and  in  get- 
ting through  a  picnic,  or  chowder  party,  or  fish  fry, 
the  Virginian,  like  Eclipse,  was  first,  and  there  was 
no  second.  Great  was  he,  too,  at  mixing  an  apple 
toddy  or  mint  julep,  where  ice  could  be  got  for  love 
or  money  ;  and  not  deficient,  by  any  means,  when 
it  came  to  his  turn  to  do  honor  to  his  own  fabrics. 
It  was  in  this  department  that  he  not  only  shone, 
but  ontshoTLQ,  not  merely  all  others,  but  himself. 
Here  he  was  at  home  indeed  His  elocution,  his 
matter,  his  learning,  his  education,  were  of  the  first 
order.      He  could  discourse  of  everything  around 


FLUSH  TIMES.  lOI 

him  with  an  accuracy  and  a  fullness  which  would 
have  put  Coleridge's  or  Mrs.  Ellis's  table  talk  to  the 
blush.  Every  dish  was  a  text,  horticulture,  hunt- 
ing, poultry,  fishing  (Isaak  Walton  or  Daniel  Web- 
ster would  have  been  charmed  and  instructed  to 
hear  him  discourse  piscatory-wise),  a  slight  diver- 
gence in  favor  of  fox-chasing  and  a  detour  towards 
a  horse-race  now  and  then,  and  continual  paren- 
theses of  recommendation  of  particular  dishes  or 
glasses  —  Oh  !  I  tell  you,  if  ever  there  was  an  inter- 
esting man,  it  was  he.  Others  might  be  agreeable, 
but  he  was  fascinating,  irresistible,  not-to-be-done- 
without. 

In  the  fullness  of  time  the  new  era  had  set  in, 
the  era  of  the  second  great  experiment  of  independ- 
ence, —  the  experiment,  namely,  of  credit  without 
capital,  and  enterprise  without  honesty.  The  Age 
of  Brass  had  succeeded  the  Arcadian  period,  when 
men  got  rich  by  saving  a  part  of  their  earnings, 
and  lived  at  their  own  cost 'and  in  ignorance  of  the 
new  plan  of  making  fortunes  on  the  profits  of  what 
they  owed.  A  new  theory,  not  found  in  the  works 
on  political  economy,  was  broached.  It  was  found 
out  that  the  prejudice  in  favor  of  the  metals  (brass 
excluded)  was  an  absurd  superstition,  and  that,  in 
reality,  anything  else  which  the  parties  interested 
in  giving  it  currency  chose  might  serve  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  value  and  medium  for  exchange  of 
property  ;  and  as  gold  and  silver  had  served  for  a 
great  number  of  years  as  representatives,  the  repub- 
lican doctrine  of  rotation  in  office  required  they 
should  give  way.  Accordingly,  it  was  decided  that 
Rags,  a  very  familiar  character,  and  very  popular 
and  easy  of  access,  should  take  their  place.     Rags 


102  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

belonged  to  the  school  of  progress.  He  was  repre- 
sentative of  the  then  Young  America.  His  admin- 
istration was  not  tame.  It  was  very  spirited.  It 
was  based  on  the  Bonapartist  idea  of  keeping  the 
imagination  of  the  people  excited.  The  leading 
fiscal  idea  of  his  system  was  to  democratize  capital, 
and  to  make,  for  all  purposes  of  trade,  credit,  and  en- 
joyment of  wealth,  the  man  that  had  no  money  a 
little  richer,  if  anything,  than  the  man  that  bad  a 
million.  The  principle  of  success  and  basis  of  opera- 
tion, though  inexplicable  in  the  hurry  of  the  time,  is 
plain  enough  now  :  it  was  faith.  Let  the  public  be- 
lieve that  a  smutted  rag  is  money,  it  is  money  :  in 
other  words,  it  was  a  sort  of  financial  biology,  which 
made,  at  night,  the  thing  conjured  for  the  thing  that 
was  seen,  so  far  as  the  patient  was  concerned,  while 
the  fit  was  on  him  —  except  that  now  a  man  does 
not  do  his  tradins:  when  under  the  mesmeric  influ- 
ence  :  in  the  flush  times  he  did. 

This  country  was  just  settling  up.  Marvelous 
accounts  had  gone  forth  of  the  fertility  of  its  virgin 
lands  ;  and  the  productions  of  the  soil  were  com- 
manding a  price  remunerating  to  slave  labor  as  it 
had  never  been  remunerated  before.  Emigrants 
came  flocking  in  from  all  quarters  of  the  Union,  es- 
pecially from  the  slave-holding  States.  The  new 
country  seemed  to  be  a  reservoir,  and  every  road 
leading  to  it  a  vagrant  stream  of  enterprise  and  ad- 
venture. Money,  or  wdiat  passed  for  money,  was 
the  only  cheap  thing  to  be  had.  Every  cross-road 
and  every  avocation  presented  an  opening,  through 
which  a  fortune  was  seen  by  the  adventurer  in  near 
perspective.  Credit  was  a  thing  of  course.  To  re- 
fuse it  —  if  the  thing  was  ever  done  —  were  an  in- 


FLUSH  TIMES.  IO3 

suit  for  which  a  bowie-knife  were  not  a  too  summary 
or  exemplary  a  means  of  redress.  The  state  banks 
were  issuing  their  bills  by  the .  sheet,  like  a  patent 
steam  printing-press  its  issues  ;  and  no  other  show- 
ing was  asked  of  the  applicant  for  the  loan  than 
an  authentication  of  his  great  distress  for  money. 
Finance,  even  in  its  most  exclusive  quarter,  had 
thus  already  got,  in  this  wonderful  revolution,  to 
work  upon  the  principles  of  the  charity  hospital. 
If  an  overseer  grew  tired  of  supervising  a  planta- 
tion, and  felt  a  call  to  the  mercantile  life,  even  if  he 
omitted  the  compendious  method  of  buying  out  a 
merchant  wholesale,  stock,  house,  and  good-will,  and 
laying  down,  at  once,  his  bull-whip  for  the  yard- 
stick, all  he  had  to  do  was  to  go  on  to  New  York, 
and  present  himself  in  Pearl  Street  with  a  letter 
avouching  his  citizenship  and  a  clean  shirt,  and  he 
was  regularly  given  a  through  ticket  to  speedy  bank- 
ruptcy. 

Under  this  stimulating  process  prices  rose  like 
smoke.  Lots  in  obscure  villages  were  held  at  city 
prices  ;  lands,  bought  at  the  minimum  cost  of  gov- 
ernment, were  sold  at  from  thirty  to  forty  dollars 
per  acre,  and  considered  dirt  cheap  at  that.  In  short, 
the  country  had  got  to  be  a  full  antitype  of  Califor- 
nia, in  all  except  the  gold.  Society  was  wholly  un- 
organized, there  was  no  restraining  public  opinion, 
the  law  was  well-nigh  powerless,  and  religion  scarcely 
was  heard  of  except  as  furnishing  the  oaths  and 
technics  of  profanity.  The  world  saw  a  fair  ex- 
periment of  what  it  would  have  been  if  the  fiat  had 
never  been  pronounced  which  decreed  subsistence 
as  the  price  of  labor. 

Money  got  without  work,  by  those  unaccustomed 


104  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

to  it,  turned  the  heads  of  its  possessors,  and  they 
spent  it  with  a  recklessness  like  that  with  which 
they  gained  it.  The  pursuits  of  industry  neglected, 
riot  and  coarse  debauchery  filled  up  the  vacant 
hours.  "  Where  the  carcass  is,  there  will  the  eagles 
be  gathered  together;"  and  the  eagles  that  flocked 
to  the  Southwest  were  of  the  same  sort  as  the  black 
eagles  the  Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar  saw  on  his  cele- 
brated journey  to  the  Natural  Bridge.  "  The  cankers 
of  a  long  peace  and  a  calm  world  "  —  there  were  no 
Mexican  wars  and  filibuster  expeditions  in  those  days 
—  gathered  in  the  villages  and  cities  by  scores. 

Even  the  little  boys  caught  the  taint  of  the  gen- 
eral infection  of  morals  ;  and  I  knew  one  of  them  — 
Jim  Ellett  by  name  —  to  give  a  man  ten  dollars  to 
hold  him  up  to  bet  at  the  table  of  a  faro-bank.  James 
was  a  fast  youth  ;  and  I  sincerely  hope  he  may  not 
fulfill  his  early  promise,  and  some  day  be  assisted 
up  still  JiigJier. 

The  groceries  —  vidgice  doggeries  —  were  in  full 
blast  in  those  days,  no  village  having  less  than  a 
half  dozen  all  busy  all  the  time  :  gaming  and  horse- 
racing  were  polite  and  well-patronized  amusements. 
I  knew  of  a  judge  to  adjourn  two  courts  (or  court 
twice)  to  attend  a  horse-race,  at  which  he  officiated 
judicially  and  ministerially,  and  with  more  appro- 
priateness than  in  the  judicial  chair.  Occasionally 
the  scene  was  diversified  by  a  murder  or  two,  which, 
though  perpetrated  from  behind  a  corner,  or  behind 
the  back  of  the  deceased,  whenever  the  accused 
chose  to  stand  his  trial,  was  always  found  to  be  com- 
mitted in  self-defense,  securing  the  homicide  an 
honorable  acquittal  at  the  harids  of  his  peers. 

The  old  rules  of  business  and  the  calculations  of 


FLUSH  TIMES.  IO5 

prudence  were  alike  disregarded,  and  profligacy,  in 
all  the  departments  of  the  crimen  falsi,  held  riotous 
carnival.  Larceny  grew  not  only  respectable,  but 
genteel,  and  ruffled  it  in  all  the  pomp  of  purple  and 
fine  linen.  Swindling  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of 
the  fine  arts.  Felony  came  forth  from  its  covert, 
put  on  more  seemly  habiliments,  and  took  its  seat 
with  unabashed  front  in  the  upper  places  of  the  syn- 
agogue. Before  the  first  circles  of  the  patrons  of 
this  brilliant  and  dashing  villainy,  Blunt  Honesty 
felt  as  abashed  as  poor  Halbert  Glendinning  by  the 
courtly  refinement  and  supercilious  airs  of  Sir  Piercie 
Shafton. 

Public  office  represented,  by  its  incumbents,  the 
state  of  public  morals  with  some  approach  to  ac- 
curacy. Out  of  sixty-six  receivers  of  public  money 
in  the  new  States,  sixty-two  were  discovered  to  be 
defaulters  ;  and  the  agent  sent  to  look  into  the  af- 
fairs of  a  peccant  office-holder  in  the  Southwest 
reported  him  viimLS  some  tens  of  thousands,  but 
advised  the  government  to  retain  him,  for  a  reason 
one  of  yEsop's  fables  illustrates  :  the  agent  ingen- 
iously surmising  that  the  appointee  succeeding  would 
do  his  stealing  without  any  regard  to  the  proficiency 
already  made  by  his  predecessor,  while  the  present 
incumbent  would  probably  consider,  in  mercy  to  the 
treasury,  that  he  Jiad  done  something  of  the  pious 
duty  of  providing  for  his  household. 

There  was  no  petit  larceny  :  there  was  all  the 
difference  between  stealing  by  the  small  and  the 
"  operations  "  manipulated  that  there  is  between  a 
single  assassination  and  an  hundred  thousand  men 
killed  in  an  opium  war.  The  placeman  robbed  with 
the  gorgeous  magnificence  of  a  Governor-General  ot 
Bengal. 


106  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  IIFE. 

The  man  of  straw,  not  worth  the  buttons  on  his 
shirt,  with  a  sublime  audacity,  bought  lands  and 
negroes,  and  provided  times  and  terms  of  payment 
which  a  Wall  Street  capitalist  would  have  to  recast 
his  arrangements  to  meet. 

O  Paul  Clifford  and  Augustus  Tomlinson,  philos- 
ophers of  the  road,  practical  and  theoretical  !  If 
ye  had  lived  to  see  those  times,  how  great  an  im- 
provement on  your  ruder  scheme  of  distribution 
would  these  gentle  arts  have  seemed,  —  arts  where- 
by, without  risk,  or  loss  of  character,  or  the  vulgar 
barbarism  of  personal  violence,  the  same  beneficial 
results  flowed,  with  no  greater  injury  to  the  super- 
stitions of  moral  education  ! 

With  the  change  of  times  and  the  imagination  of 
wealth  easily  acquired  came  a  change  in  the  thoughts 
and  habits  of  the  people.  "  Old  times  were  changed, 
old  manners  gone."  Visions  of  affluence,  such  as 
crowded  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson's  mind,  when  adver- 
tising a  sale  of  Thrale's  Brewery,  and  casting  a  soft 
sheep's  eye  toward  Thrale's  widow,  thronged  upon 
the  popular  fancy.  Avarice  and  hope  joined  part- 
nership. It  was  strange  how  the  reptile  arts  of  hu- 
manity, as  at  a  faro-table,  warmed  into  life  beneath 
their  heat.  The  cacoethes  accrescendi  became  epi- 
demic. It  seized  upon  the  universal  community, 
The  pulpits  even  were  not  safe  from  its  insidious 
invasion.  What  men  anxiously  desire  they  willingly 
believe  ;  and  all  believed  a  good  time  was  coming,  — 
nay,  had  come. 

*'  Commerce  was  king,"  and  Rags,  Tag,  and  Bob- 
tail his  cabinet  council.  Rags  was  treasurer.  Banks, 
chartered  on  a  specie  basis,  did  a  very  flourishing 
business  on   the   promissory  notes  of  the  individ« 


FLUSH  TIMES.  10/ 

ual  stockholders,  ingeniously  substituted  in  lieu  of 
cash.  They  issued  ten  for  one,  the  one  being  ficti- 
tious. They  generously  loaned  all  the  directors  could 
not  use  themselves,  and  were  not  choice  whether 
Bardolph  was  the  indorser  for  Falstaff  or  Falstaff 
borrowed  on  his  own  proper  credit  or  the  funds 
advanced  him  by  Shallow.  The  stampede  towards 
the  golden  temple  became  general  ;  the  delusion 
prevailed  far  and  wide  that  this  thing  was  not  a 
burlesque  on  commerce  and  finance.  Even  the  di- 
rectors of  the  banks  began  to  have  their  doubts 
whether  the  intended  swindle  was  not  a  failure. 
Like  Lord  Clive,  when  reproached  for  extortion  to 
the  extent  of  some  millions  in  Bengal,  they  ex- 
claimed, after  the  bubble  burst,  **  When  they  thought 
of  what  they  had  got,  and  what  they  might  have  got, 
they  were  astounded  at  their  own  moderation  ! " 

The  old  capitalists  for  a  while  stood  out.  With 
the  Tory  conservatism  of  cash  in  hand,  worked  for, 
they  could  n't  reconcile  their  old  notions  to  the  new 
regime.  They  looked  for  the  thing's  ending,  and  then 
their  time.  But  the  stampede  still  kept  on.  Paper 
fortunes  still  multiplied  ;  houses  and  lands  changed 
hands  ;  real  estate  see-sawed  up  as  morals  went  down 
on  the  other  end  of  the  plank  ;  men  of  straw,  corpu- 
lent with  bank  bills,  strutted  past  them  on  'Change. 
They  began,  too,  to  think  there  might  be  something 
in  this  new  thing.  Peeping  cautiously,  like  hedge- 
hogs, out  of  their  holes,  they  saw  the  stream  of  wealth 
and  adventurers  passing  by  ;  then,  looking  carefully 
around,  they  inched  themselves  half-way  out ;  then, 
sallying  forth  and  snatching  up  a  morsel,  ran  back  ; 
until  at  last,  grown  more  bold,  ///^  ran  out  too  with 
their  hoarded  store,  in  full  chase  with  the  other  un- 


I08  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

clean  beasts  of  adventure.  They  never  got  back 
again.  Jonah's  gourd  withered  one  night,  and  next 
morning  the  vermin  that  had  nestled  under  its  broad 
shade  were  left  unprotected,  a  prey  to  the  swift  ret- 
ribution that  came  upon  them.  They  w^ere  left 
naked,  or  only  clothed  themselves  with  cursing  (the 
Specie  Circular  on  the  United  States  Bank)  as  with 
a  garment.  To  drop  the  figure,  Shylock  himself 
could  n't  live  in  those  times,  so  reversed  was  every- 
thing. Shaving  paper  and  loaning  money  at  a 
usury  of  fifty  per  cent,  was  for  the  first  time  since 
the  Jews  left  Jerusalem  a  breaking  business  to  the 
operator. 

The  condition  of  society  may  be  imagined  :  vul- 
garity, ignorance,  fussy  and  arrogant  pretension, 
unmitigated  rowdyism,  bullying  insolence,  if  they 
did  not  rule  the  hour,  seemed  to  wield  unchecked 
dominion.  The  workings  of  these  choice  spirits 
were  patent  upon  the  face  of  society  ;  and  the  mod- 
est, unobtrusive,  retiring  men  of  worth  and  charac- 
ter (for  there  were  many,  perhaps  a  large  majority 
of  such)  were  almost  lost  sight  of  in  the  hurly-burly 
of  those  strange  and  shifting  scenes. 

Even  in  the  professions  were  the  same  character- 
istics visible.  Men  dropped  down  into  their  places 
as  from  the  clouds.  Nobody  knew  who  or  what  they 
were,  except  as  they  claimed,  or  as  a  surface  view  of 
their  characters  indicated.  Instead  of  taking  to  the 
highway,  and  magnanimously  calling  upon  the  way- 
farer to  stand  and  deliver,  or  to  the  fashionable  lar- 
ceny of  credit  without  prospect  or  design  of  paying, 
some  unscrupulous  horse  doctor  would  set  up  his 
sign  as  "  Physician  and  Surgeon,"  and  draw  his 
lancet  on  you,  or  fire  at  random  a  box  of  his  pills 


FLUSH  TIMES.  IO9 

into  your  bowels,  with  a  vague  chance  of  hitting 
some  disease  unknown  to  him,  but  with  a  better 
prospect  of  kilHng  the  patient,  whom  or  whose  ad- 
ministrator he  charged  some  ten  dollars  a  trial  for 
his  markmanship. 

A  superannuated  justice  or  constable  in  one  of 
the  old  States  was  metamorphosed  into  a  lawyer  ; 
and  thouofh  he  knew  not  the  distinction  between  a 
fee  tail  and  a  female  would  undertake  to  construe, 
off-hand,  a  will  involving  all  the  subtleties  of  uses 
and  trusts. 

But  this  state  of  things  could  not  last  forever :  so- 
ciety cannot  always  stand  on  its  head,  with  its  heels 
in  the  air. 

The  Jupiter  Tonans  of  the  White  House  saw  the 
monster  of  a  free  credit  prowling  about  like  a  beast 
of  apocalyptic  vision,  and  marked  him  for  his  prey. 
Gathering  all  his  bolts  in  his  sinewy  grasp,  and 
standing  back  on  his  heels,  and  waving  his  wiry 
arm,  he  let  them  all  fly,  hard  and  swift,  upon  all  the 
hydra's  heads.  Then  came  a  crash,  as  *'  if  the  ribs 
of  nature  broke,"  and  a  scattering,  like  the  bursting 
of  a  thousand  magazines,  and  a  smell  of  brimstone, 
as  if  Pandemonium  had  opened  a  window  next  to 
earth  for  ventilation,  —  and  all  was  silent.  The 
beast  never  stirred  in  his  tracks.  To  get  down  from 
the  clouds  to  level  ground,  the  Specie  Circular  was 
issued  without  warning,  and  the  splendid  lie  of  a 
false  credit  burst  into  fragments.  It  came  in  the 
midst  of  the  dance  and  the  frolic,  as  Tam  O'Shan- 
ter  came  to  disturb  the  infernal  glee  of  the  warlocks, 
and  to  disperse  the  rioters.  Its  effect  was  like  that 
of  a  general  creditor's  bill  in  the  chancery  court,  and 
a  marshaling  of  all  the  assets  of  the  trades-people. 


no  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

General  Jackson  was  no  fairy  ;  but  he  did  some  very 
pretty  fairy  work  in  converting  the  bank  bills  back 
again  into  rags  and  oak-leaves.  Men  worth  a  mill- 
ion were  insolvent  for  two  millions  ;  promising  young 
cities  marched  back  again  into  the  wilderness.  The 
ambitious  town  plat  was  re-annexed  to  the  planta- 
tion, like  a  country  girl  taken  home  from  the  city. 
The  frolic  was  ended,  and  what  headaches  and  fe- 
verish limbs  the  next  morning  !  The  retreat  from 
Moscow  was  performed  over  again,  and  "  Devil  take 
the  hindmost "  was  the  tune  to  which  the  soldiers  of 
fortune  marched.  The  only  question  was  as  to  the 
means  of  escape,  and  the  nearest  and  best  route  to 
Texas.  The  sheriff  was  as  busy  as  a  militia  adjutant 
on  review  day  ;  and  the  lawyers  were  mere  wreckers, 
earning  salvage.  Where  are  ye  now,  my  ruffling  gal- 
lants .-*  Where  now  the  braw  cloths  and  watch-chains 
and  rings  and  fine  horses  .'*  Alas  for  ye  !  they  are 
glimmering  among  the  things  that  were,  the  wonder 
of  an  hour  !  They  live  only  in  memory,  as  unsub- 
stantial as  the  promissory  notes  ye  gave  for  them. 
When  it  came  to  be  tested,  the  whole  matter  was 
found  to  be  hollow  and  fallacious.  Like  a  sum 
ciphered  out  through  a  long  column,  the  first  figure 
an  error,  the  whole  and  all  the  parts  were  wrong, 
throughout  the  entire  calculation. 

Such  is  a  charcoal  sketch  of  the  interesting  region 
• —  now  inferior  to  none  in  resources  and  the  char- 
acter of  its  population  —  during  the  flush  times  ; 
a  period  constituting  an  episode  in  the  commercial 
history  of  the  world,  —  the  reign  of  humbug  and 
wholesale  insanity,  just  overthrown  in  time  to  save 
the  whole  country  from  ruin.  But  while  it  lasted, 
many  of  our  countrymen  came  into  the  Southwest 


FLUSH   TIMES.  Ill 

in  time  to  get  '*  a  benefit."  The  miri  sacra  fames 
is  a  catching  disease.  Many  Virginians  had  lived 
too  fast  for  their  fortunes,  and  naturally  desired  to 
recuperate  ;  many  others,  with  a  competency,  longed 
for  wealth  ;  and  others,  again,  with  wealth,  yearned 
—  the  common  frailty  —  for  still  more.  Perhaps 
some  friend  or  relative,  who  had  come  out,  wrote 
back  flattering  accounts  of  the  El  Dorado,  and  fired 
with  dissatisfaction  those  who  were  doing  well 
enough  at  home,  by  the  report  of  his  real  or  imag- 
ined success  ;  for  who  that  ever  moved  off  was  not 
"doing  well  "  in  the  new  countr}',  himself  or  friends 
being  chroniclers  .'' 

Superior  to  many  of  the  settlers  in  elegance  of 
manners  and  general  intelligence,  it  was  the  weak- 
ness of  the  Virginian  to  imagine  he  was  superior 
too  in  the  essential  art  of  being  able  to  hold  his 
hand  and  make  his  way  in  a  new  country,  and  es- 
pecially siLch  a  country,  and  at  such  a  time.  What 
a  mistake  that  was!  The  times  were  out  of  joint. 
It  was  hard  to  say  whether  it  w^ere  more  dangerous 
to  stand  still  or  to  move.  If  the  emigrant  stood 
still,  he  was  consumed,  by  no  slow  degrees,  by  ex- 
penses, if  he  moved,  ten  to  one  he  went  off  in  a 
galloping  consumption,  by  a  ruinous  investment. 
Expenses  then  —  necessary  articles  about  three 
times  as  high,  and  extra  articles  still  more  extra- 
priced  —  were  a  different  thing  in  the  new  country 
from  what  they  were  in  the  old.  In  the  old  country, 
a  jolly  Virginian,  starting  the  business  of  free  liv- 
ing on  a  capital  of  a  plantation  and  fifty  or  sixty 
negroes,  might  reasonably  calculate,  if  no  ill  luck 
befell  him,  by  the  aid  of  a  usurer  and  the  occa- 
sional sale  of  a  negro  or  ^wo,  to  hold  out  without 


112  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

declared  insolvency  until  a  green  old  age.  His  es- 
tate melted  like  an  estate  in  chancery,  under  the 
gradual  thaw  of  expenses  ;  but  in  this  fast  country 
it  went  by  the  sheer  cost  of  living,  —  some  poker 
losses  included,  —  like  the  fortune  of  the  confec- 
tioner in  California,  who  failed  for  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  the  six  months'  keeping  of  a 
candy-shop.  But  all  the  habits  of  his  life,  his  taste, 
his  associations,  his  education,  —  everything  ;  the 
trustingness  of  his  disposition,  his  want  of  busi- 
ness qualifications,  his  sanguine  temper,  all  that 
was  Virginian  in  him,  made  him  the  prey,  if  not 
of  imposture,  at  least  of  unfortunate  speculations. 
Where  the  keenest  jockey  often  was  bit,  what  chance 
had  he  ?  About  the  same  that  the  verdant  Moses 
had  with  the  venerable  old  gentleman,  his  father's 
friend,  at  the  fair,  when  he  traded  the  Vicar's  pony 
for  the  green  spectacles.  But  how  could  he  be- 
lieve it  .•*  How  co2ild  he  believe  that  that  stuttering, 
grammarless  Georgian,  who  had  never  heard  of  the 
resolutions  of  '98,  could  beat  him  in  a  land  trade  } 
*'  Have  no  money  dealings  with  my  father,"  said  the 
friendly  Martha  to  Lord  Nigel  ;  "  for,  idiot  though 
he  seems,  he  will  make  an  ass  of  thee."  What  a 
pity  some  monitor,  equally  wise  and  equally  success- 
ful with  old  Trapbois'  daughter,  had  not  been  at  the 
elbow  of  every  Virginian  !  "  Twad  frae  monie  a 
blunder  free'd  him,  an'  foolish  notion." 

If  he  made  a  bad  bargain,  how  could  he  expect  to 
get  rid  of  it .''  He  knew  nothing  of  the  elaborate 
machinery  of  ingenious  chicane,  such  as  feigning 
bankruptcy,  fraudulent  conveyances,  making  over  to 
his  wife,  running  property  ;  and  had  never  heard  of 
such  tricks  of  trade  as  sending  out  coffins  to  the 


FLUSH  TIMES.  II3 

graveyard,  with  negroes  inside,  carried  off  by  sud- 
den spells  of  imaginary  disease,  to  be  "resurrected" 
in  due  time,  grinning,  on  the  banks  of  the  Brazos. 

The  new  philosophy,  too,  had  commended  itself 
to  his  speculative  temper.  He  readily  caught  at 
the  idea  of  a  new  spirit  of  the  age  having  set  in, 
which  rejected  the  saws  of  Poor  Richard  as  being 
as  much  out  of  date  as  his  almanacs.  He  was  al- 
ready, by  the  great  rise  of  property,  compared  to 
his  condition  under  the  old-time  prices,  rich  ;  and 
what  were  a  few  thousands  of  debt,  which  two  or 
three  crops  would  pay  off,  compared  to  the  value  of 
his  estate  }  (He  never  thought  that  the  value  of 
property  might  come  down,  while  the  debt  was  a 
fixed  fact.)  He  lived  freely,  for  it  was  a  liberal 
time,  and  liberal  fashions  were  in  vogue,  and  it  was 
not  for  a  Virginian  to  be  behind  others  in  hospital- 
ity and  liberality.  He  required  credit  and  secur- 
ity, and  of  course  had  to  stand  security  in  return. 
When  the  crash  came,  and  no  **  accommodations" 
could  be  had,  except  in  a  few  instances,  and  in  those 
on  the  most  ruinous  terms,  he  fell  an  easy  victim. 
They  broke  by  neighborhoods.  They  usually  in- 
dorsed for  each  other,  and  when  one  fell  —  like  the 
child's  play  of  putting  bricks  on  end  at  equal  dis- 
tances, and  dropping  the  first  in  the  line  against  the 
second,  which  fell  against  the  third,  and  so  on  to 
the  last  —  all  fell ;  each  got  broke  as  security,  and 
yet  few  or  none  were  able  to  pay  their  own  debts  ! 
So  powerless  of  protection  were  they  in  those  times 
that  the  witty  H.  G.  used  to  say  they  reminded  him 
of  an  oyster,  both  shells  torn  off,  lying  on  the  beach, 
with  the  sea-gulls  screaming  over  them  ;  the  only 

question  being  which  should  **  gobble  them  up." 

8 


114  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

There  was  one  consolation  :  if  the  Virginian  in- 
volved himself  like  a  fool,  he  suffered  himself  to  be 
sold  out  like  a  gentleman.  When  his  card  house  of 
visionary  projects-came  tumbling  about  his  ears,  the 
next  question  was  the  one  Webster  plagiarized, 
"  Where  am  I  to  go  ? "  Those  who  had  fathers,  un- 
cles, aunts,  or  other  like  dernier  resorts  in  Virginia 
limped  back,  with  feathers  moulted  and  crestfallen, 
to  the  old  stamping  ground,  carrying  the  returned 
Californian's  fortune  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  —  six 
bits  in  money,  and  the  balance  in  experience.  Those 
who  were  in  the  condition  of  the  prodigal  (barring 
the  father,  the  calf,  —  the  fatted  one  I  mean,  —  and 
the  fiddle)  had  to  turn  their  accomplishments  to  ac- 
count ;  and  many  of  them,  having  lost  all  by  eating 
and  drinking,  sought  the  retributive  justice  from 
meat  and  drink,  which  might,  at  least,  support  them 
in  poverty.  Accordingly,  they  kept  tavern,  and  made 
a  barter  of  hospitality  a  business,  the  only  disagree- 
able part  of  which  was  receiving  the  money,  and  the 
onl}^  one  I  know  of  for  which  a  man  can  eat  and 
drink  himself  into  qualification.  And  while  I  con- 
fess I  never  knew  a  Virginian,  out  of  the  State,  to 
keep  a  bad  tavern,  I  never  knew  one  to  draw  a  sol- 
vent breath  from  the  time  he  opened  house  until 
death  or  the  sheriff  closed  it. 

Others,  again,  got  to  be  not  exactly  overseers,  but 
some  nameless  thing,  the  duties  of  which  were 
nearly  analogous,  for  some  more  fortunate  Virginian, 
who  had  escaped  the  wreck,  and  who  had  got  his 
former  boon  companion  to  live  with  him  on  board, 
or  other  wages,  in  some  such  relation  that  the  friend 
was  not  often  found  at  table  at  the  dinings  given  to 
the  neighbors,  and  had  got  to  be  called  Mr.  Flour- 


FLUSH   TIMES.  II5 

noy  instead  of  Bob,  and  slept  in  an  out-house  in  the 
yard,  and  only  read  the  **  Enquirer  "  of  nights  and 
Sundays. 

Some  of  the  younger  scions,  that  had  been  trans- 
planted early,  and  stripped  of  their  foliage  at  a  ten- 
der age,  had  been  turned  into  birches  for  the  cor- 
rective discipline  of  youth.  Yes  ;  many  who  had 
received  academical  or  collegiate  educations,  disre- 
garding the  allurements  of  the  highway,  turning 
from  the  gala-day  exercise  of  ditching,  scorning 
the  effeminate  relaxation  of  splitting  rails,  hero- 
ically led  the  Forlorn  Hope  of  the  battle  of  life,  the 
corps  of  pedagogues  of  country  schools,  acadeinieSy 
I  beg  pardon  for  not  saying  ;  for,  under  the  Virginia 
economy,  every  cross-road  log-cabin,  where  boys 
w^ere  flogged  from  B-a  k-e-r  to  Constantinople,  grew 
into  the  dignity  of  a  sort  of  runt  college  ;  and  the 
teacher  vainly  endeavored  to  hide  the  meanness  of 
the  calling  beneath  the  sonorous  sobriq2iet  of  Pro- 
fessor. "  Were  there  no  w'ars  } "  Had  all  the 
oysters  been  opened  .''  Where  was  the  regular  army  .'* 
Could  not  interest  procure  service  as  a  deck-hand 
on  a  steamboat  t  Did  no  stage-driver,  with  a  con- 
tract for  running  at  night  through  the  prairies  in 
mid-winter,  want  help,  at  board  wages,  and  sweet 
lying  in  the  loft,  w^hen  off  duty,  thrown  in  }  What 
right  had  the  Dutch  Jews  to  monopolize  all  the 
peddling }  *'  To  such  vile  uses  may  we  come  at 
last,  Horatio."  The  subject  grows  melancholy.  I 
had  a  friend  on  whom  this  catastrophe  descended. 
Tom  Edmundson  was  a  buck  of  the  first  head,  -^ 
gay,  witty,  dashing,  vain,  proud,  handsome,  and  vola- 
tile, and,  withal,  a  dandy  and  lady's  man  to  the  last 
intent  in  particular.     He  had  graduated  at  the  Uni- 


I  1 6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

versity,  and  had  just  settled  with  his  guardian,  and 
received  his  patrimony  of  ten  thousand  dollars  in 
money.  Being  a  young  gentleman  of  enterprise, 
he  sought  the  alluring  fields  of  Southwestern  ad- 
venture, and  found  them  in  this  State.  Before  he 
well  knew  the  condition  of  his  exchequer,  he  had 
made  a  permanent  investment  of  one  half  of  his 
fortune  in  cigars,  champagne,  trinkets,  buggies, 
horses,  and  current  expenses,  including  some  small 
losses  at  poker,  which  game  he  patronized  merely 
for  amusement  ;  and  found  that  it  diverted  him  a 
good  deal,  but  diverted  his  cash  much  more.  He 
invested  the  balance,  on  private  information  kindly 
given  him,  in  "  CJioctazv  Floats!'  A  most  lucrative 
investment  it  would  have  turned  out,  but  for  the 
facts :  (i)  that  the  Indians  never  had  any  title  ; 
(2)  the  white  men  who  kindly  interposed  to  act  as 
guardians  for  the  Indians  did  not  have  the  Indian 
title  ;  and  (3)  the  land,  left  subject  to  entry,  if  the 
*'  Floats  "  had  been  good,  was  not  worth  entering. 
*'  These  imperfections  off  its  head,"  I  know  of  no 
fancy  stock  I  would  prefer  to  a  "  Choctaw  Float." 
"  Brief,  brave,  and  glorious "  was  "  Tom's  young 
career."  When  Thomas  found,  as  he  did  shortly, 
that  he  had  bought  five  thousand  dollars'  worth  of 
moonshine,  and  had  no  title  to  it,  he  honestly  in- 
formed his  landlord  of  the  state  of  his  *'fiscality," 
and  that  worthy  kindly  consented  to  take  a  new 
buggy,  at  half  price,  in  payment  of  the  old  balance. 
The  horse,  a  nick-tailed  trotter,  Tom  had  raffled  off ; 
but  omitting  to  require  cash,  the  process  of  collec- 
tion resulted  in  his  getting  the  price  of  one  chance, 
—  the  winner  of  the  horse  magnanimously  paying 
his  subscription.     The  rest  either  had  gambling  off- 


FLUSH   TIMES.  \\1 

sets,  or  else  were  not  prepared  just  at  any  one  par- 
ticular given  moment  to  pay  up,  though  always 
ready  generally  and  in  a  general  way. 

Unlike  his  namesake,  Tom  and  his  landlady  were 
not  —  for  a  sufficient  reason  —  very  gracious;  and 
so,  the  only  common  bond,  Tom's  money,  being  gone, 
Tom  received  "  notice  to  quit  "  in  regular  form. 

In  the  hurly-burly  of  the  times,  I  had  lost  sight 
of  Tom  for  a  considerable  period.  One  day,  as  I 
was  traveling  over  the  hills  in  Greene,  by  a  cross- 
road, leading  me  near  a  country  mill,  I  stopped  to 
get  water  at  a  spring  at  the  bottom  of  a  hill.  Clam- 
bering up  the  hill,  after  remounting,  on  the  other  side, 
the  summit  of  it  brought  me  to  a  view,  through  the 
bushes,  of  a  log  country  school-house,  the  door  being 
wide  open  ;  and  who  did  I  see  but  Tom  Edmund- 
son,  dressed  as  fine  as  ever,  sitting  back  in  an  arm- 
chair, one  thumb  in  his  waistcoat  armhole,  the  other 
hand  brandishing  a  long  switch,  or  rather  pole.  As 
I  approached  a  little  nearer,  I  heard  him  speak 
out :  "  Sir,  Thomas  Jefferson,  of  Virginia,  was  the 
author  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  — mind 
that.  I  thought  everybody  knew  that,  even  the 
Georgians."  Just  then  he  saw  me  coming  through 
the  bushes  and  entering  the  path  that  led  by  the 
door.  Suddenly  he  broke  from  the  chair  of  state, 
and  the  door  was  slammed  to,  and  I  heard  some  one 
of  the  boys,  as  I  passed  the  door,  say,  ''Tell  him 
he  can't  come  in  ;  the  master  's  sick."  This  is  the 
last  I  ever  saw  of  Tom.  I  understand  he  afterwards 
moved  to  Louisiana,  where  he  married  a  rich  French 
widow,  having  first,  however,  to  fight  a  duel  with 
one  of  her  sons,  whose  opposition  could  n't  be  ap- 
peased until  some  such    expiatory  sacrifice  to  the 


Il8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

manes  of  his  worthy  father  was  attempted  ;  whicb 
failing,  he  made  rather  a  lame  apology  for  his  zeal- 
ous indiscretion,  —  the  poor  fellow  could  make  no 
other,  for  Tom  had  unfortunately  fixed  him  for 
visiting  his  mother  on  crutches  the  balance  of  his 
life. 

One  thing  I  will  say  for  the  Virginians  :  I  never 
knew  one  of  them,  under  any  pressure,  extemporize 
a  profession.  The  sentiment  of  reverence  for  the 
mysteries  of  medicine  and  law  was  too  large  for  a 
deliberate  quackery ;  as  to  the  pulpit,  a  man  might 
as  well  do  his  starving  without  the  hypocrisy. 

But  others  were  not  so  nice.  I  have  known  them 
to  rush,  when  the  wolf  was  after  them,  from  the 
counting-house  or  the  plantation  into  a  doctor's 
shop  or  a  law  office,  as  if  those  places  were  the 
sanctuaries  from  the  avenger  ;  some  pretending  to 
be  doctors  that  did  not  know  a  liver  from  a  gizzard, 
administering  medicine  by  the  guess,  without  know- 
ing enough  of  pharmacy  to  tell  whether  the  stuff  ex- 
hibited in  the  big-bellied  blue,  red,  and  green  bottles 
at  the  show-windows  of  the  apothecaries'  shops  was 
given  by  the  drop  or  the  half  pint. 

Divers  others  left,  but  what  became  of  them  I 
never  knew,  any  more  than  they  know  what  becomes 
of  the  sora  after  frost. 

Many  were  the  instances  of  suffering ;  of  pitiable 
misfortune,  involving  and  crushing  whole  families  ; 
of  pride  abased  ;  of  honorable  sensibilities  wounded ; 
of  the  provision  for  old  age  destroyed ;  of  the  h(5pes 
of  manhood  overcast ;  of  independence  dissipated, 
and  the  poor  victim,  without  help,  or  hope,  or  sym- 
pathy, forced  to  petty  shifts  for  a  bare  subsistence, 
and  a  ground-scuffle  for  what  in   happier  days   he 


FLUSH  TIMES.  Iia 

threw  away.  But  there  were  too  many  examples  of 
this  sort  for  the  expenditure  of  a  useless  compas- 
sion ;  just  as  the  surgeon,  after  a  battle,  grows  case- 
hardened,  from  an  excess  of  objects  of  pity. 

My  memory,  however,  fixes  itself  on  one  honored 
exception,  the  noblest  of  the  noble,  the  best  of  the 
good.  Old  Major  Willis  Wormley  had  come  in  long 
before  the  new  era.  He  belonged  to  the  old  school 
of  Virginians.  Nothing  could  have  torn  him  from 
the  Virginia  he  loved,  as  Jacopi  Foscari,  Venice,  but 
the  marrying  of  his  eldest  daughter,  Mary,  to  a  gen- 
tleman of  Alabama.  The  Major  was  something  be- 
tween, or  made  of  about  equal  parts  of,  Uncle  Toby 
and  Mr.  Pickwick,  with  a  sUght  flavor  of  Mr.  Micaw- 
ber.  He  was  the  soul  of  kindness,  disinterestedness, 
and  hospitality.  Love  to  everything  that  had  life 
in  it  burned  like  a  flame  in  his  large  and  benignant 
soul  ;  it  flowed  over  in  his  countenance,  and  glowed 
through  every  feature,  and  moved  every  muscle  in 
the  frame  it  animated.  The  Major  lived  freely,  was 
rather  corpulent,  and  had  not  a  lean  thing  on  his 
plantations  ;  the  negroes,  the  dogs,  the  horses,  the 
cattle,  the  very  chickens,  wore  an  air  of  corpulent 
complacency,  and  bustled  about  with  a  good-humored 
rotundity.  There  was  more  laughing,  singing,  and 
whistling  at  '*  Hollywood  "  than  would  have  set  up  a 
dozen  Irish  fairs.  The  Major's  wife  had,  from  a  long 
life  of  affection,  and  the  practice  of  the  same  pur- 
suits, and  the  indulgence  of  the  same  feelings  and 
tastes,  got  so  much  like  him  that  she  seemed  a  fem- 
inine and  modest  edition  of  himself.  Four  daugh- 
ters were  all  that  remained  in  the  family,  —  two  had 
been  married  off,  —  and  they  had  no  son.  The  girls 
ranged  from  sixteen   to   twenty-two, — fine,  hearty,. 


120  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

whole-souled,  wholesome,  cheerful  lasses,  with  con 
stitutions  to  last,  and  a  flow  of  spirits  like  mountain 
springs ;  not  beauties,  but  good  housewife  girls, 
whose  open  countenances  and  neat  figures  and  rosy 
cheeks  and  laughing  eyes  and  frank  and  cordial 
manners  made  them,  at  home,  abroad,  on  horseback 
or  on  foot,  at  the  piano  or  discoursing  on  the  old 
English  books  or  Washington  Irving's  Sketch  Book, 
—  a  favorite  in  the  family  ever  since  it  was  written,  — 
as  entertaining  and  as  well  calculated  to  fix  solid  im- 
pressions on  the  heart  as  any  four  girls  in  the  coun- 
try. The  only  difficulty  was  they  were  so  much 
alike  that  you  were  put  to  fault  which  to  fall  in  love 
with.  They  were  all  good  housewives,  or  women, 
rather.  But  Mrs.  Wormley,  or  Aunt  Wormley,  as 
we  called  her,  was  as  far  ahead  of  any  other  woman 
in  that  way,  as  could  be  found  this  side  of  the  Vir- 
ginia border.  If  there  was  anything  good  in  the 
culinary  line  that  she  could  n't  make,  I  should  like 
to  know  it.  The  Major  lived  on  the  main  stage-road, 
and  if  any  decently  dressed  man  ever  passed  the 
house  after  sundown  he  escaped  by  sheer  accident. 
The  house  was  greatly  visited.  The  Major  knew 
everybody,  and  everybody  near  him  knew  the  Major. 
The  stage-coach  could  n't  stop  long,  but  in  the  hot 
summer  days,  about  noon,  as  the  driver  tooted  his 
horn  at  the  top  of  the  red  hill,  two  negro  boys  stood 
opposite  the  door,  with  trays  of  the  finest  fruit  and 
a  pitcher  of  cider  for  the  refreshment  of  the  way- 
farers ;  the  Major  himself  being  on  the  lookout, 
with  his  hands  over  his  eyes,  bowing  —  as  he  only 
could  bow  —  vaguely  into  the  coach,  and  looking 
wistfully  to  find  among  the  passengers  an  acquaint- 
ance whom  he  could  prevail  upon  to  get  out  and  stay 


FLUSH  TIMES.  121 

a  week  with  him.  There  was  n't  a  poor  neighbor  to 
whom  the  Major  had  not  been  as  good  as  an  insurer, 
without  premium,  for  his  stock,  or  for  his  crop  ;  and 
from  the  way  he  rendered  the  service,  you  would 
think  he  was  the  party  obhged,  —  as  he  was. 

This  is  not,  in  any  country  I  have  ever  been  in,  a 
money-making  business  ;  and  the  Major,  though  he 
always  made  good  crops,  must  have  broke  at  it  long 
ago,  but  for  the  fortunate  death  of  a  few  aunts,  after 
whom  the  girls  were  named,  who,  paying  their  sev- 
eral debts  of  nature,  left  the  Major  the  means  to  pay 
his  less  serious  but  still  weighty  obligations. 

The  Major,  for  a  wonder,  being  a  Virginian,  had 
no  partisan  politics.  He  could  not  have.  His  heart 
could  not  hold  anything  that  implied  a  warfare  upon 
the  thoughts  or  feelings  of  others.  He  voted  all 
the  time  forliis  friend,  that  is,  the  candidate  Hving 
nearest  to  him  ;  regretting,  generally,  that  he  did 
not  have  another  vote  for  the  other  man. 

It  would  have  done  a  Camanche  Indian's  heart 
good  to  see  all  the  family  together  —  grandchildren 
and  all  —  of  a  winter  evening,  with  a  guest  or  two 
to  excite  sociability  a  little  ;  not  company  enough 
to  embarrass  the  manifestations  of  affection.  Such 
a  concordance,  as  if  all  hearts  were  attuned  to  the 
same  feeling  :  the  old  lady  knitting  in  the  corner, 
the  old  man  smoking  his  pipe  opposite  ;  both  of 
their  fine  faces  radiating,  in  the  pauses  of  the  laugh, 
the  jest,  or  the  caress,  the  infinite  satisfaction 
within. 

It  was  enough  to  convert  an  abolitionist  to  see 
the  old  Major,  when  he  came  home  from  a  long 
journey  of  two  days  to  the  county  town,  —  the  ne- 
groes running  in  a  string  to  the  buggy,  this  one  ta 


122  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

hold  the  horse,  that  one  to  help  the  old  man  out, 
and  the  others  to  inquire  how  he  was  ;  and  to  ob- 
serve the  benignity  with  which  —  the  kissing  of  the 
girls  and  the  old  lady  hardly  over  —  he  distributed 
a  piece  of  calico  here,  a  plug  of  tobacco  there,  or 
a  card  of  town  gingerbread  to  the  little  snow-balls 
that  grinned  around  him  :  what  was  given  being  but 
a  small  part  of  the  gift,  divested  of  the  kind,  cheer- 
ful, rollicking  way  the  old  fellow  had  of  giving  it. 

The  Major  had  given  out  his  autograph  (as  had 
almost  everybody  else)  as  indorser  on  three  several 
bills  of  exchange,  of  even  tenor  and  dale,  and  all 
maturing  at  or  about  the  same  time.  His  friend's 
friend  failed  to  pay  as  he  or  his  firm  agreed,  the 
friend  himself  did  no  better,  and  the  Major,  before 
he  knew  anything  at  all  of  his  danger,  found  a  writ 
served  upon  him,  and  was  told  by  his  friend  that  he 
was  dead  broke,  and  all  he  could  give  him  was  his 
sympathy  ;  the  which  the  Major  as  gratefully  re- 
ceived as  if  it  was  a  legal  tender,  and  would  pay  the 
debt.  The  Major's  friends  advised  him  he  could  get 
clear  of  it  ;  that  notice  of  protest  not  having  been 
sent  to  the  Major's  post-ofifice  released  him.  But 
the  Major  would  n't  hear  of  such  a  defense  ;  he  said 
his  understanding  was  that  he  was  to  pay  the  debt, 
if  his  friend  did  n't ;  and  to  slip  out  of  it  by  a  quib- 
ble was  little  better  than  pleading  the  gambling  act. 
Besides,  what  would  the  lawyers  say  ?  And  what 
would  be  said  by  his  old  friends  in  Virginia,  when  it 
reached  their  ears  that  he  had  plead  want  of  notice 
to  get  clear  of  a  debt,  when  everybody  knew  it  was 
the  same  thing  as  if  he  had  got  notice  ?  And  if  this 
defense  were  good  at  law,  it  would  not  be  in  equity  ; 
g.nd  if  they  took   it  into   chancery,  it  mattered  not 


FLUSH  TIMES.  I2j 

what  became  of  the  case ;  the  property  would  all  go, 
and  he  never  could  expect  to  see  the  last  of  it.  No, 
no  ;  he  would  pay  it,  and  had  as  well  set  about  it  at 
once. 

The  rumor  of  the  Major's  condition  spread  far 
and  wide.  It  reached  old  N.  D.,  "an  angel,"  whom 
the  Major  had  "  entertained,"  and  one  of  the  few 
that  ever  traveled  that  road.  He  came,  post  haste, 
to  see  into  the  affair  ;  saw  the  creditor  ;  made  him, 
upon  threat  of  defense,  agree  to  take  half  the  amount, 
and  discharge  the  Major  ;  advanced  the  money,  and 
took  the  Major's  negroes,  except  the  house  ser- 
vants, and  put  them  on  his  Mississippi  plantation 
to  work  out  the  debt. 

The  Major's  heart  pained  him  at  the  thought  of 
the  negroes  going  off ;  he  could  n't  witness  it,  though 
he  consoled  himself  with  the  idea  of  the  discipline 
and  exercise  being  good  for  the  health  of  sundry  of 
them  who  had  contracted  sedentary  diseases. 

The  Major  turned  his  house  into  a  tavern, — that 
is,  changed  its  name,  —  put  up  a  sign,  and  three 
weeks  afterwards  you  could  n't  have  told  that  any- 
thing had  happened.  The  family  were  as  happy  as 
ever  :  the  Major,  never  having  put  on  airs  of  arro- 
gance in  prosperity,  felt  no  humiliation  in  adversity  ; 
the  girls  were  as  cheerful,  as  bustling,  and  as  light- 
hearted  as  ever,  and  seemed  to  think  of  the  duties 
of  hostesses  as  mere  bagatelles,  to  enliven  the  time. 
The  old  Major  was  as  profluent  of  anecdotes  as  ever, 
and  never  grew  tired  of  telling  the  same  ones  to 
every  new  guest ;  and  yet  the  Major's  anecdotes 
were  all  of  Virginia  growth,  and  not  one  of  them 
under  the  legal  age  of  twenty-one.  If  the  Major 
had  worked  his  negroes  as  he  had  those  anecdotes, 


124  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN-  LIFE. 

he  would  have  been  able  to  pay  off  the  bills  of  ex- 
change without  any  difficulty. 

The  old  lady  and  the  girls  laughed  at  the  anec- 
dotes, though  they  must  have  heard  them  at  least  a 
thousand  times,  and  knew  them  by  heart,  for  the 
Major  told  them  without  the  variations  ;  and  the 
other  friends  of  the  Major  laughed,  too.  Indeed,  with 
such  an  air  of  thorough  benevolence,  and  in  such  a 
truly  social  spirit,  did  the  old  fellow  proceed  **  the 
tale  to  unfold,"  that  a  Cassius  -  like  rascal  that 
would  n't  laugh,  whether  he  saw  anything  to  laugh 
at  or  not,  ought  to  have  been  sent  to  the  peniten- 
tiary for  life,  — half  of  the  time  to  be  spent  in  soli- 
tary confinement. 

II. 

ASSAULT   AND    BATTERY. 

A  trial  came  off,  not  precisely  in  our  bailiwick, 
but  in  the  neighborhood,  of  great  comic  interest. 
It  was  really  a  case  of  a  good  deal  of  aggravation, 
and  the  defendants,  fearing  the  result,  employed 
four  of  the  ablest  lawyers  practicing  at  the  M.  bar 
to  defend  them.  The  offense  charged  was  only  as- 
sault and  battery  ;  but  the  evidence  showed  a  con- 
spiracy to  inflict  great  violence  on  the  person  of  the 
prosecutor,  who  had  done  nothing  to  provoke  it,  and 
that  the  attempt  to  effect  it  was  followed  by  severe 
injury  to  him.  The  prosecutor  was  an  original.  He 
had  been  an  old-field  school-master,  and  was  as  con- 
ceited and  pedantic  a  fellow  as  could  be  found  in 
a  summer's  day,  even  in  that  profession.  It  was 
thought  the  policy  of  the  defense  to  make  as  light 
of  the  case  as  possible,  and  to  cast  as  much  ridicule 


FLUSH   TIMES.  1 25 

on  the  affair  as  they  could.  J.  E.  and  W.  M.  led 
the  defense,  and,  although  the  talents  of  the  former 
were  rather  adapted  to  grave  discussion  than  pleas- 
antry, he  agreed  to  doff  his  heavy  armor  for  the 
lighter  weapons  of  w^t  and  ridicule.  M.  was  in  his 
element.  He  was  at  all  times  and  on  all  occasions 
at  home  when  fun  w^as  to  be  raised  :  the  difficulty 
with  him  was  rather  to  restrain  than  to  create  mirth 
and  laughter.  The  case  was  called  and  put  to  the 
jury.  The  witness,  one  Burwell  Shines,  w^as  called 
for  the  prosecution.  A  broad  grin  was  upon  the 
faces  of  the  counsel  for  the  defense  as  he  came  for- 
ward. It  was  increased  when  the  clerk  said,  ''  Bur- 
rell  Shines,  come  to  the  book  ;  "  and  the  witness, 
with  deliberate  emphasis,  remarked,  "  My  Christian 
name  is  not  Biirrell,  but  Bw'well,  though  I  am  vul- 
garly denominated  by  the  former  epithet."  "Well," 
said  the  clerk,  "  '^wx-well  Shines,  come  to  the  book, 
and  be  sw^orn."  He  was  sworn,  and  directed  to  take 
the  stand.     He  w^as  a  picture  ! 

He  was  dressed  with  care.  His  toilet  was  elab- 
orate and  befitting  the  magnitude  and  dignity  of  the 
occasion,  the  part  he  was  to  fill,  and  the  high  pres- 
ence into  which  he  had  come.  He  was  evidently 
favorably  impressed  with  his  own  personal  pulchri- 
tude ;  yet  with  an  air  of  modest  deprecation,  as  if  he 
said  by  his  manner,  "After  all,  \vhat  is  beauty,  that 
man  should  be  proud  of  it ;  and  what  are  fine  clothes, 
that  the  wearers  should  put  themselves  above  the 
unfortunate  mortals  who  have  them  not  .-^ " 

He  advanced  with  deliberate  gravity  to  the  stand. 
There  he  stood,  his  large  bell-crowned  hat,  with 
nankeen-colored  nap  an  inch  long,  in  his  hand ; 
vvhich  hat  he  carefully  handed  over  the  bar  to  the 


126  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

clerk  to  hold  until  he  should  get  through  his  testi- 
mony. He  wore  a  blue  single-breasted  coat  with 
new  brass  buttons,  a  vest  of  bluish  calico,  nankeen 
pants  that  struggled  to  make  both  ends  meet,  but 
failed,  by  a  few  inches,  in  the  legs,  yet  made  up  for 
it  by  fitting  a  little  better  than  the  skin  everywhere 
else.  His  head  stood  upon  a  shirt  collar  that  held 
it  up  by  the  ears,  and  a  cravat,  something  smaller 
than  a  table-cloth,  bandaged  his  throat ;  his  face 
was  narrow,  long,  and  grave,  with  an  indescribable 
air  of  ponderous  wisdom,  which,  as  Fox  said  of 
Thurlow,  "proved  him  necessarily  a  hypocrite;  as 
it  was  iijipossible  for  any  man  to  be  as  wise  as  Jie 
looked."  Gravity  and  decorum  marked  every  linea- 
ment of  his  countenance  and  every  line  of  his  body. 
All  the  wit  of  Hudibras  could  not  have  moved  a 
muscle  of  his  face.  His  conscience  would  have 
smitten  him  for  a  lau2:h  almost  as  soon  as  for  an 
oath.  His  hair  was  roached  up,  and  stood  as  erect 
and  upright  as  his  body  ;  and  his  voice  was  slow, 
deep,  in  ''linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out,"  and 
modulated  according  to  the  camp-meeting  standard 
of  elocution.  Three  such  men  at  a  country  frolic 
would  have  turned  an  old  Virginia  reel  into  a  dead 
march.  He  was  one  of  Carlyle's  earnest  men. 
Cromwell  would  have  made  him  ensign  of  the  Iron- 
sides, and  ex-officio  chaplain  at  first  sight.  He  took 
out  his  pocket-handkerchief,  slowly  unfolded  it  from 
the  shape  in  which  it  came  from  the  washerwom- 
an's, and  awaited  the  interrogation.  As  he  waited, 
he  spat  on  the  floor,  and  nicely  wiped  it  out  with 
his  foot.  The  solicitor  told  him  to  tell  about  the 
difficulty  in  hand.  He  gazed  around  on  the  court, 
hen   on    the   bar,   then  on   the   jury,  then   on    the 


FLUSH  TIMES.  12/ 

crowd,  addressing  each  respectively  as  he  turned  : 
"  May  it  please  your  honor,  gentlemen  of  the  bar, 
gentlemen  of  the  jury,  audience  :  Before  proceeding 
to  give  my  testimonial  observations,  I  must  premise 
that  I  am  a  member  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal, 
otherwise  called  Wesleyan,  persuasion  of  Christian 
individuals.  One  bright  Sabbath  morning  in  May, 
the  15th  day  of  the  month,  the  past  year,  while  the 
birds  were  singing  their  matutinal  songs  from  the 
trees,  I  sallied  forth  from  the  dormitory  of  my  sem- 
inary to  enjoy  the  reflections  so  well  suited  to  that 
auspicious  occasion.  I  had  not  proceeded  far  be- 
fore my  ears  were  accosted  with  certain  Baccha- 
nalian sounds  of  revelry,  which  proceeded  from  one 
of  those  haunts  of  vicious  depravity  located  at  the 
cross-roads,  near  the  place  of  my  boyhood,  and 
fashionably  denominated  a  doggery.  No  sooner 
had  I  passed  beyond  the  precincts  of  this  diabolical 
rendezvous  of  rioting  debauchees,  than  I  heard  be- 
hind me  the  sounds  of  approaching  footsteps,  as  if 
in  pursuit.  Having  heard  previously  sundry  men- 
aces, which  had  been  made  by  these  preposterous 
and  incarnadine  individuals  of  hell,  now  on  trial  in 
prospect  of  condign  punishment,  fulminated  against 
the  longer  continuance  of  my  corporeal  salubrity, 
for  no  better  reason  than  that  I  reprobated  their 
criminal  orgies,  and  not  wishing  my  reflections  to 
be  disturbed,  I  hurried  my  steps  with  a  gradual  ac- 
celerated motion.  Hearing,  however,  their  con- 
tinued advance,  and  the  repeated  shoutings,  articu- 
lating the  murderous  accents,  '  Kill  him !  Kill 
Shadbelly,  with  his  praying  clothes  on  ! '  (which  was 
a  profane  designation  of  myself  and  my  religious 
profession),    and    casting    my    head   over    my   left 


128  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

shoulder  in  a  manner  somehow  reluctantly,  thus, 
[throwing  his  head  to  one  side],  and  perceiving  their 
near  approximation,  I  augmented  my  speed  into 
what  might  be  denominated  a  gentle  slope,  and 
subsequently  augmented  the  same  into  a  species  of 
dog-trot.  But  all  would  not  do.  Gentlemen,  the 
destroyer  came.  As  I  reached  the  fence,  and  was 
about  propelling  my  body  over  the  same,  felicitating 
myself  on  my  prospect  of  escape  from  my  remorse- 
less pursuers,  they  arrived,  and  James  William 
Jones,  called,  by  nickname,  Buck  Jones,  that  red- 
headed character  now  at  the  bar  of  this  honorable 
court,  seized  a  fence  rail,  grasped  it  in  both  hands, 
and,  standing  on  tip-toe,  hurled  the  same,  with 
mighty  emphasis,  against  my  cerebellum,  which 
blow  felled  me  to  the  earth.  Straightway,  like  ig- 
noble curs  upon  a  disabled  lion,  these  bandit  ruffians 
and  incarnadine  assassins  leaped  upon  me,  some 
pelting,  some  bruising,  some  gouging,  —  'everything 
by  turns,  and  nothing  long,'  as  the  poet  hath  it  ; 
and  one  of  them,  —  which  one  unknown  to  me,  hav- 
ing no  eyes  behind  —  inflicted  with  his  teeth  a  griev- 
ous wound  upon  my  person  ;  where,  I  need  not 
specify.  At  length,  when  thus  prostrate  on  the 
ground,  one  of  those  bright  ideas,  common  to  minds 
of  men  of  genius,  struck  me.  I  forthwith  sprang 
to  my  feet,  drew  forth  my  cutto,  circulated  the  same 
with  much  vivacity  among  their  several  and  respec- 
tive corporeal  systems,  and  every  time  I  circulated 
the  same  I  felt  their  iron  grasp  relax.  As  cowardly 
recreants,  even  to  their  own  guilty  friendships,  two 
of  these  miscreants,  though  but  slightly  perforated 
by  my  cutto,  fled,  leaving  the  other  two,  whom  I 
had  disabled  by  the  vigor  and  energy  of  my  incis- 


FLUSH  TIMES.  1 29 

ions,  prostrate  and  in  my  power.  These  lustily 
called  for  quarter,  shouting  out  *  Enough  ! '  or,  in 
their  barbarous  dialect,  being  as  corrupt  in  language 
as  in  morals,  *  Nuff  ! '  which  quarter  I  magnani- 
mously extended  them,  as  unworthy  of  my  farther 
vengeance,  and  fit  only  as  subject  of  penal  infliction 
at  the  hands  of  the  offended  laws  of  their  country, 
to  which  laws  I  do  now  consign  them,  hoping  such 
mercy  for  them  as  their  crimes  will  permit  ;  which, 
in  my  judgment  (having  read  the  code),  is  not 
much.  This  is  my  statement  on  oath,  fully  and 
truly,  nothing  extenuating  and  naught  setting  down 
in  malice ;  and  if  I  have  omitted  anything,  in  form 
or  substance,  I  stand  ready  to  supply  the  omission  ; 
and  if  I  have  stated  anything  amiss,  I  will  cheer- 
fully correct  the  same,  limiting  the  averment,  with 
appropriate  modifications,  provisions,  and  restric- 
tions. The  learned  counsel  may  now  proceed  more 
particularly  to  interrogate  me  of  and  respecting  the 
premises." 

After  this  oration,  Burwell  wiped  the  perspiration 
from  his  brow,  and  the  counsel  for  the  state  took 
him.  Few  questions  were  asked  him,  however,  by 
that  official,  he  confining  himself  to  a  recapitulation 
in  simple  terms,  of  what  the  witness  had  declared, 
and  procuring  Burwell's  assent  to  his  translation. 
Long  and  searching  was  the  cross-examination  by 
the  defendant's  counsel  ;  but  it  elicited  nothing  fa- 
vorable to  the  defense,  and  nothing  shaking,  but 
much  to  confirm,  Burwell's  statement. 

After  some  other  evidence,  the  examination  closed, 
and  the  argument  to  the  jury  commenced.  The 
solicitor  very  briefly  adverted  to  the  leading  facts, 
deprecated  any  attempt  to  turn  the  case  into  ridi- 

9 


130  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

cule,  admitted  that  the  witness  was  a  man  of  ec- 
centricity and  pedantry,  but  harmless  and  inoffensive; 
a  man,  evidently,  of  conscientiousness  and  respecta- 
bility ;  that  he  had  shown  himself  to  be  a  peaceable 
man,  but  when  occasion  demanded,  a  brave  man  ; 
that  there  was  a  conspiracy  to  assassinate  him  upon 
no  cause  except  an  independence,  which  was  hon- 
orable to  him,  and  an  attempt  to  execute  the  pur- 
pose, in  pursuance  of  previous  threats,  and  severe 
injury  by  several  confederates  on  a  single  person, 
and  this  on  the  Sabbath,  and  when  he  was  seeking 
to  avoid  them. 

W.  M.  rose  to  reply.  All  Screamersville  turned 
out  to  hear  him.  William  was  a  great  favorite,  — 
the  most  popular  speaker  in  the  country,  — had  the 
versatility  of  a  mocking-bird,  an  aptitude  for  bur- 
lesque that  would  have  given  him  celebrity  as  a 
dramatist,  and  a  power  of  acting  that  would  have 
made  his  fortune  on  the  boards  of  a  theatre.  A 
rich  treat  was  expected,  but  it  did  n't  come.  The 
witness  had  taken  all  the  wind  out  of  William's 
sails.  He  had  rendered  burlesque  impossible.  The 
thing  as  acted  was  more  ludicrous  than  it  could  be 
as  described.  The  crowd  had  laughed  themselves 
hoarse  already  ;  and  even  M.'s  comic  powers  seemed, 
and  were  felt  by  himself,  to  be  humble  imitations  of 
a  greater  master.  For  once  in  his  life  M.  dragged 
his  subject  heavily  along.  The  matter  began  to 
grow  serious,  —  fun  failed  to  come  when  M.  called 
it  up.  M.  closed  between  a  lame  argument,  a  timid 
deprecation,  and  some  only  tolerable  humor.  He 
was  followed  by  E.,  in  a  discursive,  argumentative, 
sarcastic,  drag-net  sort  of  speech,  which  did  all  that 
could  be  done  for  the  defense.     The  solicitor  briefly 


FLUSH  TIMES.  I31 

closed,  seriously  and  confidently  confining  himself 
to  a  repetition  of  the  matters  first  insisted,  and  an- 
swering some  of  the  points  of  the  counsel. 

It  was  an  ominous  fact  that  a  juror,  before  the 
jury  retired,  under  leave  of  the  court,  recalled  a 
witness  for  the  purpose  of  putting  a  question  to 
him  :  the  question  was  how  much  the  defendants 
were  worth  ;  the  answer  was,  about  two  thousand 
dollars. 

The  jury  shortly  after  returned  into  court  with  a 
verdict  which  "  sized  their  pile." 


III. 

SHARP     FINANCIERING. 

In  the  times  of  1836  there  dwelt  in  the  pleasant 

town  of  T ,  a  smooth,  oily-mannered  gentleman, 

who  diversified  a  commonplace  pursuit  by  some  ex- 
citing episodes  of  finance,  — ^  dealing  occasionally 
in  exchange,  buying  and  selling  uncurrent  money, 
etc.  We  will  suppose  this  gentleman's  name  to  be 
Thompson.    It  happened  that  a  Mr.  Ripley  of  North 

CaroUna  was    in  T .     Having    some   $i,2Cmd  in 

North  Carolina  money,  and  desiring  to  return  to 
the  old  North  State  with  his  funds,  not  wishing  to 
encounter  the  risk  of  robbery  through  the  Creek 
country,  in  which  there  were  rumors  of  hostilities 
between  the  whites  and  the  Indians,  he  bethought 
him  of  buying  exchange  on  Raleigh,  as  the  safest 
mode  of  transmitting  his  money.  On  inquiry,  he 
was  referred  to  Mr.  Thompson,  as  the  only  person 
dealing  in  exchange  in  that  place.  He  called  on 
Mr.  Thompson  and  made  known  his  wishes.     With 


132  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

his  characteristic  politeness,  Mr.  Thompson  agreed 
to  accommodate  him  with  a  sight  bill  on  his  corre- 
spondent in  Raleigh,  charging  him  the  moderate 
premium  of  five  per  cent,  for  it.  Mr.  Thompson 
retired  into  his  counting-room,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
returned  with  the  bill  and  a  letter,  which  he  deliv- 
ered to  Mr.  Ripley,  at  the  same  time  receiving  the 
money  from  that  gentleman  plus  the  exchange.  As 
the  interlocutors  were  exchanging  valedictory  com- 
pliments, it  occurred  to  Mr.  Thompson  that  it  would 
be  a  favor  to  him  if  Mr.  Ripley  would  be  so  kind  as 
to  convey  to  Mr.  Thompson's  correspondent  a  pack- 
age he  was  desirous  of  sending,  which  request  Mr. 
Ripley  assured  Mr.  Thompson  it  would  afford  him 
great  pleasure  to  comply  with.  Mr.  Thompson  then 
handed  Mr.  Ripley  a  package,  strongly  enveloped 
and  sealed,  addressed  to  the  Raleigh  banker,  after 
which  the  gentlemen  parted  with  many  polite  ex- 
pressions of  regard  and  civility. 

Arriving,  without  'any  accident  G.'  hindrance,  at 
Raleigh,  Mr.  Ripley's  first  care  was  to  call  on  the 
banker  and  present  his  documents.  He  found  him 
at  his  ofifice,  presented  the  bill  and  letter  to  him, 
and  requested  payment  of  the  former.  "  That," 
said  the  banker,  "  will  depend  a  good  deal  upon  the 
contents  of  the  package."  Opening  which,  Mr. 
Ripley  found  the  identical  bills,  minus  the  premium, 
he  had  paid  Mr.  Thompson  for  his  bill  ;  and  which 
the  banker  paid  over  to  that  gentleman,  w^ho  was 
not  a  little  surprised  to  find  that  the  expert  Mr. 
Thompson  had  charged  him  five  per  cent,  for  carry'- 
ing  his  own  money  to  Raleigh,  to  avoid  the  risk  and 
trouble  of  which  he  had  bought  the  exchange. 

Thompson  used  to  remark  that  that  was  the  safest 


FLUSH  TIMES.  1 33 

operation,  all  around,  he  ever  knew.  He  had  got 
his  exchange,  the  buyer  had  got  his  bill,  and  the 
money,  too,  and  the  drawee  was  fully  protected  I 
There  was  profit  without  outlay  or  risk 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP. 


In  *'  Simon  Suggs  "  we  have  the  vulgarian  of  the  South  "  done/' 
to  use  his  own  elegant  phraseology,  "  to  a  cracklin'."  In  the  amus- 
ing, amatory  adventures  of  Major  Joseph  Jones,  the  reverse  side  of 
the  picture  —  homely,  not  to  say  rough,  but  clean  —  is  given  us.  Here 
there  is  nothing  equivocal  or  coarse  ;  not  so  much  as  the  suspicion  of 
a  double  entente. 

The  "  Major "  is  a  simple,  yet  shrewd,  straightforward,  honest 
Georgia  lad,  whose  migrations  have  been  for  the  most  part  from  the 
blue  bud  to  the  brown.  He  loves  Mary  Stallins,  and  Mary  loves  him. 
The  "old  people  "  favor  the  match.  The  young  people  conspire  to 
bring  it  about.  There  is  positively  no  obstruction,  no  plot,  and  no 
villain.  But,  by  a  grotesque  humor  and  rustic  narrative,  composed  of 
ingredients  of  the  most  transparent  and  unambitious  .description,  the 
author  contrives  to  maintain  the  interest  of  the  reader  throuorhout. 
In  representative  quality,  both  as  to  its  dramatis  personte  and  its 
dialect,  the  story  is  genuinely  racy  of  the  soil.  It  is  distinctively 
Southern  and  provincial.  If  no  names  were  mentioned,  its  locale  could 
not  be  mistaken.  Its  scenes  might  possibly  be  laid  in  Tennessee  or 
Alabama,  but  not  in  Virginia  or  Mississippi. 

In  truth,  there  are  divergencies  between  South  Carolina  and  Ken- 
tucky, for  example,  as  great  as  there  are  between  Maine  and  Texas. 
Nothing  could  be  more  whimsical  than  the  attempt  to  draw  a  myth- 
ical line  across  the  country,  parceling  off  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
other  certain  peculiar  and  antagonistic  characteristics.  The  diversi- 
ties of  habit  and  speech  which  mark  our  people  cannot  be  so  classi- 
fied, but  are  to  be  sought  under  conditions  which  the  geography  does 
not  affect.  The  most  influential  and  popular  Mississippian  who  ever 
lived  was  born  and  raised  in  New  England  ;  and  the  most  representa- 
tive citizen  of  Maine,  at  the  present  time,  born  and  educated  in  Penn- 
sylvania, never  saw  New  England  until  he  was  three  or  four  and 
twenty,  and  carried  thither  with  him  many  of  the  idiosyncratic  feat- 
ures of  the  typical  Kentuckian. 

But  Major  Jones  is  a  Georgian.  He  is  well  to  do,  and  he  knows 
a  thing  or  two,  albeit  his  education  in  "grammer"  and  "  retorick  " 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  135 

has  been  neglected.  His  character,  like  his  diction,  is  homespun. 
He  is  a  thorough  rustic,  and  belongs  to  a  class  which  is  still  very  large 
in  the  interior  of  the  South. 

[The  author  of  this  typical  creation,  Colonel  W.  T.  Thompson, 
liveH  and  died  an  editor  in  Georgia.  He  was  a  man  of  singular  mod- 
esty, but  a  good  scholar,  a  close  observer,  and,  at  times,  a  trenchant 
controversialist.  He  passed  away  at  a  ripe  old  age  in  Savannah,  in 
the  early  part  of  1882. 

I. 

THE    MAJOR    TAKES    A    CHEW    OF   TOBACCO. 

You  know  the  Stallinses  lives  on  the  plantation  in 
the  summer,  and  goes  to  town  in  the  winter.  Well, 
Miss  Mary  Stallins,  who,  you  know,  is  the  darlinest 
gall  in  the  county,  come  home  tother  day  to  see  her 
folks.  You  know  she  's  been  to  the  Female  College, 
down  to  Macon,  for  most  a  year  now.  Before  she 
went,  she  used  to  be  jest  as  plain  as  a  old  shoe,  and 
used  to  go  fishin'  and  huckleberryin'  with  us,  with 
nothin'  but  a  calico  sun-bonnet  on,  and  was  the 
wildest  thing  you  ever  seed.  Well,  I  always  used 
to  have  a  sort  of  a  sneakin'  notion  after  Mary  Stal- 
lins, and  so,  when  she  come,  I  brushed  up,  and  was 
'termined  to  have  a  right  serious  talk  with  her  about 
old  m.atters  ;  not  knowin'  but  she  mought  be  cap- 
tivated by  some  of  them  Macon  fellers. 

So,  shure  enough,  off  I  started,  unbeknowin'  to 
anybody,  and  rode  right  over  to  the  plantation.  (You 
know  ours  is  right  jinin'  the  widder  Stallinses.) 
Well,  when  I  got  thar,  I  felt  a  little  sort  o'  sheepish  ; 
but  I  soon  got  over  that,  when  Miss  Carline  said 
(but  she  did  n't  mean  me  to  har  her),  '*  There,  Pinny" 
(that's  Miss  Mary's  nick-name,  you  know),  "there's 
your  bow  come." 

Miss  Mary  looked  mighty  sort  o'  redish  when  I 


136  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

shuck  her  hand  and  told  her  howdy  ;  and  she  made 
a  sort  of  stoop  over  and  a  dodge  back,  hke  the  Httle 
galls  does  to  the  school-marm,  and  said,  "  Good-even- 
in',  Mr.  Jones."    (She  used  to  always  call  me  jest  Joe.) 

"  Take  a  chair,  Joseph,"  said  Miss  Carline  ;  and 
we  sot  down  in  the  parlor,  and  I  begun  talkin'  to 
Miss  Mary  about  Macon,  and  the  long  ride  she  had, 
and  the  bad  roads,  and  the  monstrous  hot  weather, 
and  the  like. 

She  did  n't  say  much,  but  was  in  a  mighty  good 
humor,  and  laughed  a  heap.  I  told  her  I  never  seed 
sich  a  change  in  anybody.  Nor  I  never  did.  Why, 
she  did  n't  look  like  the  same  gall.  Good  gracious  ! 
she  looked  so  nice  and  trim,  —  jest  like  some  of  them 
pictures  what  they  have  in  ''Appletons'  Journal,"  — 
with  her  hair  all  komed  down  longside  of  her  face, 
as  slick  and  shiny  as  a  mahogany  burow.  When  she 
laughed  she  did  n't  open  her  mouth  like  she  used  to  ; 
and  she  sot  up  straight  and  still  in  her  chair,  and 
looked  so  different,  but  so  monstrous  pretty  !  I  ax'd 
her  a  heap  of  questions,  about  how  she  liked  Macon 
and  the  Female  College,  and  so  forth  ;  and  she  told 
me  a  heap  about  'em.  But  old  Miss  Stallins  and 
Miss  Carline  and  Miss  Kesiah,  and  all  of  'em,  kep 
all  the  time  interruptin'  us,  axin'  about  mother, — if 
she  was  well,  and  if  she  was  gwine  to  the  Spring 
church  next  Sunday,  and  what  luck  she  had  with  her 
soap,  and  all  sich  stuff,  —  and  I  do  believe  I  told  the 
old  woman  more  'n  twenty  times  that  mother  's  old 
turky-hen  was  settin'  on  fourteen  eggs. 

Well,  I  was  n't  to  be  backed  out  that-a-way  ;  so  I 
kep  it  a-goin'  the  best  I  could,  till  bimeby  old  Miss 
Stallins  let  her  knitin'  drap  three  or  four  times,  and 
then  begun  to  nod. 


MAJOR   JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  137 

I  seed  the  galls  lookin'  at  one  another  and  pinch- 
in'  one  another's  elbows,  and  Miss  Mary  said  she 
wondered  what  time  it  was,  and  said  the  college 
disciplines,  or  something  like  that,  did  n't  low  late 
hours.  I  seed  how  the  game  was  gwine  ;  but  how- 
sumever,  I  kep  talkin'  to  her  like  a  cotton  gin  in 
packin'  time,  as  hard  as  I  could  clip  it,  till  bimeby 
the  old  lady  went  to  bed,  and  after  a  bit  the  galls  all 
cleared,  and  left  Miss  Mary  to  herself.  That  was 
jest  the  thing  I  wanted. 

Well,  she  sot  on  one  side  of  the  fire-place,  and 
I  sot  on  tother,  so  I  could  spit  on  the  hath,  whar 
ther  was  nothin'  but  a  lighterd  chunk  burnin'  to 
give  light.  Well,  we  talked  and  talked,  and  I  know 
you  would  like  to  hear  all  we  talked  about,  but  that 
would  be  too  long.  When  I  'm  very  interested  in 
anything,  or  git  bother'd  about  anything,  I  can't  help 
chawin'  a  heap  of  tobacker,  and  then  I  spits  uncon- 
tionable,  specially  if  I  'm  talkin'.  Well,  we  sot  thar 
and  talked,  and  the  way  I  spit  was  larmin'  to  the 
crickets  !  I  axed  Miss  Mary  if  she  had  any  bows 
down  to  Macon. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said ;  and  then  she  went  on  and 
named  over  Matthew  Matix,  Nat.  Filosofy,  Al. 
Geber,  Retric  Stronomy,  and  a  whole  heap  of  fel- 
lers, that  she  'd  been  keepin'  company  with  most  all 
her  time. 

"  Well,"  ses  I,  **  I  spose  they  're  mazin'  poplar 
with  you,  ain't  they.  Miss  Mary  .?  "  for  I  felt  mighty 
oneasy,  and  begun  to  spit  a  good  deal  worse. 

"  Yes,"  ses  she,  "  they  're  the  most  interestin* 
companions  I  ever  had,  and  I  am  anxious  to  resume 
their  pleasant  society." 

I   tell  you  what,  that  sort  o'  stumped  me,  and  I 


138  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

spit  right  slap  on  the  chunk  and  made  it  "  flicker 
and  flare  "  like  the  mischief.  It  was  a  good  thing  it 
did,  for  I  blushed  as  blue  as  a  Ginny  squash. 

I  turned  my  tobacker  round  in  my  mouth,  and 
spit  two  or  three  times,  and  the  old  chunk  kep  up  a 
most  bominable  fryin'. 

**  Then  I  spose  your  gwine  to  forgit  old  acquaint- 
ances," ses  I,  **  sense  you  's  been  to  Macon,  among 
them  lawyers  and  doctors,  is  you,  Miss  Mary  .<*  You 
thinks  more  of  them  than  you  does  of  anybody  else, 
I  spose." 

"  Oh,"  ses  she,  "  I  am  devoted  to  them.  I  think 
of  them  day  and  night ! " 

That  was  too  much  ;  it  shot  me  right  up,  and  I 
sot  as  still  as  could  be  for  more  'n  a  minute.  I  never 
felt  so  warm  behind  the  ears  afore  in  all  my  life. 
Thunder !  how  my  blood  did  bile  up  all  over  me  ! 
and  I  felt  like  I  could  knock  Matthew  Matix  into  a 
grease-spot,  if  he  'd  only  been  thar. 

Miss  Mary  sot  with  her  handkercher  up  to  her 
face,  and  I  looked  straight  into  the  fire-place.  The 
blue  blazes  was  runnin'  round  over  the  old  chunk, 
ketchin'  hold  here  and  lettin'  go  thar,  sometimes 
gwine  most  out,  and  then  blazin'  up  a  little.  I  could 
n't  speak.  I  was  makin'  up  my  mind  for  tellin'  her 
the  sitewation  of  my  hart.  I  was  jest  gwine  to  tell 
her  my  feelins,  but  my  mouth  was  chock  full  of  to- 
backer, so  I  had  to  spit  —  and  slap  it  went,  right  on 
the  light-wood  chunk,  and  out  it  went,  spang  ! 

I  swar,  I  never  did  feel  so  tuck  aback  in  all  my 
born  days.     I  did  n't  know  what  to  do. 

"  My  Lord,  Miss  Mary,"  ses  I,  "  I  did  n't  go  to  do 
it.  Jest  tell  me  the  way  to  the  kitchen,  and  I  '11  go 
and  git  a  light." 


MAJOR   JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  139 

But  she  never  said  nothin',  so  I  sot  down  agin, 
thinkin'  she  'd  gone  to  git  one  herself,  for  it  was 
pitch  dark,  and  I  could  n't  see  my  hand  afore  my 
face. 

Well,  I  sot  thar  and  ruminated,  and  waited  a  long 
time,  but  she  did  n't  come  ;  so  I  begun  to  think 
may  be  she  was  n't  gone.  I  could  n't  hear  nothin' 
nor  I  could  n't  see  nothin'  ;  so  bimeby  ses  I,  very 
low,  for  I  did  n't  want  to  wake  up  the  family,  —  ses  I, 

"  Miss  Mary  !  Miss  Mary  !  "  But  nobody  an- 
sw^ered. 

Thinks  I,  What 's  to  be  done  }     I  tried  agin. 

**  Miss  Mary  !  Miss  Mary  !  "  ses  I.  But  it  was  no 
use. 

Then  I  heard  the  galls  snickerin'  and  laughin'  in 
the  next  room,  and  I  begun  to  see  how  it  was  :  Miss 
Mary  was  gone,  and  left  me  thar  alone. 

"  Whar  's  my  hat  t  "  ses  I,  pretty  loud,  so  some- 
body mought  tell  me.     But  they  only  laughed  worse. 

I  begun  to  feel  about  the  room,  and  the  first  thing 
I  know'd,  spang  !  goes  my  head  agin  the  edge  of 
the  pantry  dore,  what  was  standin'  open.  The  fire 
flew,  and  I  could  n't  help  but  swar  a  little.  "  D — n 
the  dore,"  ses  I,  "  whar  's  my  hat .''  "  But  nobody 
said  nothin',  and  I  went  gropin'  about  in  the  dark, 
feelin'  round  to  find  some  way  out,  when  I  put  my 
hand  on  the  dore  knob.  All  right,  thinks  I,  as  I 
pushed  the  dore  open  quick.  .  .  .  Ther  was  a  scream  ! 
—  heads  popped  under  the  bed  kiver  quicker'n 
lightnin'  —  something  white  fluttered  by  the  burow, 
and  out  went  the  candle.  I  was  in  the  galls'  room  ! 
But  there  was  no  time  for  apologisin',  even  if  they 
could  stopped  squealin'  long  enough  to  hear  me.  I 
crawfished  out  of  that  place  monstrous  quick,  you 


140  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN   LIFE. 

may  depend.  Had  n't  I  went  and  gone  and  done 
it,  sure  enough  !  I  know'd  my  cake  was  all  dough 
then,  and  I  jest  determined  to  git  out  of  them  dig- 
gins  soon  as  possible,  and  never  mind  about  my  hat. 

Well,  I  got  through  the  parlor  dore,  after  rakin 
my  shins  three  or  four  times  agin  the  chairs,  and 
was  feehn'  along  through  the  entry  for  the  front 
dore  ;  but  somehow  I  was  so  flustrated  that  I  tuck 
the  wrong  way,  and  bimeby  kerslash  I  went,  right 
over  old  Miss  Stallinses  spinnin'-wheel,  onto  the 
floor !  I  hurt  myself  a  good  deal  ;  but  that  did  n't 
make  me  half  so  mad  as  to  hear  them  confounded 
galls  a  gigglin'  and  laughin'  at  me. 

"  Oh,"  said  one  of  'em  (it  was  Miss  Kesiah,  for 
I  knowed  her  voice),  "  there  goes  mother 's  wheel ! 
my  Lord  !  " 

I  tried  to  set  the  cussed  thing  up  agin,  but  it 
seemed  to  have  more  'n  twenty  legs,  and  would  n't 
stand  up  nohow.  May  be  it  was  broke.  I  went  out 
of  the  dore,  but  I  had  n't  more  'n  got  down  the  steps, 
when  bow  !  wow  !  wow  !  comes  four  or  five  infernal 
grate  big  coon-dogs,  rite  at  me.  "  Git  out !  git  out ! 
bellow,  Cato !  call  off  your  dogs!  "  ses  I,  as  loud  as  I 
could.  But  Cato  was  sound  asleep,  and  if  I  had  n't 
a  run  back  into  the  hall,  and  got  out  the  front  way 
as  quick  as  I  could,  them  devils  would  chawed  my 
bones  for  true. 

When  I  got  to  my  boss,  I  felt  like  a  feller  jest  out 
of  a  hornet's  nest ;  and  I  reckon  I  went  home  a  lit- 
tle of  the  quickest. 

Next  mornin'  old  Miss  Stallins  sent  my  hat  by  a 
little  nigger ;  but  I  hain't  seed  Mary  Stallins  sense. 
Now  you  see  what  comes  of  chawin'  tobacker  !  No 
more  from  Your  friend,  till  death, 

Jos.  Jones. 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  I4I 

II. 

THE    MAJOR    HAS    A    MISADVENTURE. 

I  want  to  tell  you  about  a  scrape  I  got  in  tother 
day,  as  I  know  you  never  heard  of  jest  sich  a  catas- 
terfy  before. 

Last  Sunday,  Miss  Mary  and  Miss  Carline  and 
Miss  Kesiah  and  all  of  the  Stallinses  wer  at  church, 
and  when  it  was  out  I  jest  rid  right  up  to  Miss  Mary 
and  'lowed  I  'd  see  her  home.  She  didn't  say  noth- 
in',  and  I  rid  along  side  of  her  a  little  ways,  and  be- 
gun to  feel  mighty  good  ;  but  before  we  got  out  of 
sight  of  the  church  ther  was  a  whole  gang  of  fellers, 
and  a  heap  more  young  lady's,  cum  ridin'  up  and 
reinin'  in,  and  prancin'  and  cavortin'  about  so  that 
nobody  could  tell  who  was  ridin'  with  which  :  all  jab- 
berin'  and  talkin'  and  laughin',  as  if  they  'd  been  to  a 
corn-shuckin'  instead  of  a  meetin'-house.  Of  course 
cousin  Pete  was  thar,  on  uncle  Josh's  old  white-eyed 
boss,  with  his  saddle-bags  on,  —  for  he  always  carrys 
'em  wherever  he  goes,  to  make  folks  blieve  he''s  a 
doctor,  —  and  the  way  he  tumbled  the  big  words 
about  was  'stonishin'.  I  did  n't  say  much,  but  rid 
monstrous  close  to  one  side  of  Miss  Mary,  so  cousin 
Pete  could  n't  shine  much  thar. 

Well,  we  all  got  to  old  Miss  Stallinses  without  any 
perticeler  accident  happenin',  though  I  spected  every 
minit  to  see  some  of  'em  histed  rite  in  the  mud,  the 
way  they  kep  whippin'  one  another's  bosses  un- 
awars,  and  playin'  all  manner  of  pranks  with  one 
another.  When  we  got  thar  the  whole  crowd  stoped, 
and  some  one  proposed  a  walk  down  to  the  branch 


142  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

to  git  some  grapes.  All  hands  was  agreed  'cept  old 
Miss  Stallins,  who  sed  the  galls  better  stay  home 
and  read  the  Bible.  But  you  know  it  ain't  no  use  to 
talk  about  religion  to  young  galls  when  they  ain't 
sick  nor  sorry  bout  nothin'.  So  away  we  went ;  but 
I  tuck  monstrous  good  care  to  git  long  side  of  Miss 
Mary,  and  thar  I  stuck  till  we  got  down  to  the  branch 
whar  the  grapes  wer.  You  know  the  wild  grapes  is 
jest  gittin'  good  now  ;  and  I  never  seed  a  pretty 
young  lady  yet  that  did  n't  like  something  sour. 
Ther  's  lots  of  fox  grapes  all  round  the  plantation, 
but  the  best  ones  is  down  on  the  branch.  Cousin 
Pete  and  Ben  Biers,  and  all  the  fellers,  fell  to  get- 
tin'  grapes  for  the  ladys,  but  they  all  had  ther  Sun- 
day fixins  on,  and  was  fraid  to  go  into  the  brush 
much. 

"  Oh,  my  !  what  pretty  grapes  is  on  that  tree  !  " 
ses  Miss  Mary,  lookin'  up  half-way  to  the  top  of  the 
grate  big  gum  that  stood  right  over  the  water  ;  and 
her  pretty  bright  eyes  sparklin'  like  dew-drops  in  the 
sunshine.      *'  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  some  !  " 

Cousin  Pete  had  been  tryin'  to  make  himself  very 
poplar  with  Miss  Mary,  but  he  did  n't  seem  to  care 
about  them  high  grapes  more  'n  some  that  was  lower 
down.  But  all  the  galls  had  got  ther  eyes  on  them 
high  grapes. 

"  Them  grapes  is  like  the  young  ladys,"  ses  cousin 
Pete. 

"  Why  is  they  like  the  galls  } "  axed  Miss  Kesiah. 

"  Oh,  cause  —  cause  they  's  sweet,"  ses  cousin 
Pete. 

"  I  reckon  it 's  cause  they  's  hard  to  git,"  ses  Bill 
Willson. 

"  It 's  cause  they 's  more  trouble  to  git  than  they 's 
worth,"  ses  Tom  Stallins. 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  143 

"Ain't  you  shamed,  brother  Tom  ?  "  ses  Miss  Car- 
line. 

"What  do  you  think,  Majer?"  ses  Miss  Mary; 
and  she  gin  me  one  of  them  witchin'  side-looks  of 
hers  that  almost  made  me  jump  rite  out  of  my  boots. 

*'Why,"  ses  I,  "I  think  they's  like  the  young 
ladys  cause  they  's  sour  grapes  to  them  as  can't  git 
em. 

"Yes,  Majer,"  ses  she,  **  but  you  know  they  can 
git  'em  that  has  the  prowess  to  win  'em,"  —  and  then 
she  gin  me  a  look  that  made  me  feel  prouder  than 
I  ever  did  afore  in  my  life,  —  "  and  you  can  git  'em 
if  you  try,  Majer;  I  know  you  kin." 

When  she  said  that  last  part,  I  seed  cousin  Pete's 
lip  sort  o'  drap.  My  heart  liked  to  knock  the  but- 
tons off  my  jacket,  and  I  do  blieve  I  'd  had  them 
grapes  if  I  'd  had  to  dig  the  tree  up  by  the  roots. 
My  hat  went  off  quicker  than  a  flash,  and  up  the  old 
sweetgum  I  went  like  a  cat  squirrel. 

"Don't  fall,  Majer,"  ses  Miss  Mary.  When  she 
said  that,  I  swar  I  like  to  let  go,  it  made  me  feel  so 
interestin'.  I  was  n't  no  time  gittin'  to  the  very  tip- 
top branch,  and  the  fust  thing  I  done  was  to  cut  off 
the  largest  bunch,  and  throw  it  rite  down  to  Miss 
Mary's  feet. 

"Thank  you,  Majef,  — thank  you,"  ses  she. 

"  Throw  me  some,  Majer,"  ses  Miss  Carline,  "  and 
me  too  "  —  "  and  me  too  "  —  "  thank  you,  Majer  "  — • 
"throw  me  some,  Majer  "  —  "ain't  the  Majer  kind  }  " 
- —  "  it  takes  him  to  climb  trees,"  ses  all  the  galls. 

"  He  's  good  as  a  coon,"  ses  Ben  Biers. 

"  I  can  beat  him  any  time,"  ses  Tom  Stallins. 

"No,  y-o-u  can't,  brother  Tom,  no  sich  thing,"  ses 
Miss  Mary,  poutin'  out  her  pretty  lips  at  him. 


144  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

By  this  time  I  had  gin  'em  more  grapes  than  the) 
could  all  eat,  and  carry  home  to  boot ;  and  if  I  had 
jest  come  down  then,  I  'd  come  out  fust  rate.  But 
you  know  that 's  the  nice  pint,  —  to  know  when  to 
stop :  ther  is  such  a  thing  as  bein'  a  leetle  too  smart 
—  and  that  's  jest  whar  I  mist  the  figure. 

I  was  standin'  on  one  vine  right  over  the  branch, 
with  my  hands  holt  of  one  over  my  head,  and  thinks 
I  to  myself,  How  it  would  stonish  'em  all  now  to  see 
me  skin  the  cat.  My  spunk  was  up,  and  thinks  I 
I  '11  jest  show  'em  what  I  kin  do.  So  up  I  pulls  my 
feet  and  twisted  'em  round  through  my  arms  over 
backwards,  and  was  lettin'  my  body  down  tother 
side  foremost,  when  they  all  hollered  out,  — 

"  Oh,  look  at  Majer  Jones  !  "  '*  Oh,  see  what  he 's 
doin'  !  " 

**  Oh,  I  'm  so  fraid,"  ses  Miss  Mary. 

That  made  me  want  to  do  my  best,  so  I  let  my- 
self down  slow  and  easy,  and  I  begun  to  feel  with 
my  feet  for  the  vine  below. 

*'  Oh,  my  gracious  !  "  ses  Miss  Kesiah,  "  see  how 
he  is  twisted  his  arms  round." 

Somehow  I  could  n't  find  the  vine,  and  my  arms 
begun  to  hurt,  but  I  did  n't  say  nothin'. 

"  A  1-e-e-t-l-e  further  forward,  Majer,"  ses  Tom 
Stallins. 

"  No  ;  more  to  the  right,"  ses  Ben  Biers. 

The  galls  wer  all  lookin',  and  did  n't  know  what  to 
say.  I  kep  tryin'  to  touch  both  ways,  but  cuss  the 
vine  was  thar.  Then  I  tried  to  git  back  agin,  but  I 
could  n't  raise  myself,  somehow,  and  I  begun  to  feel 
monstrous  dizzy ;  the  water  below  looked  sort  o'  yal- 
ler  and  green,  and  had  sparks  of  fire  runnin'  all 
through  it,  and   my  eyes  begun  to  feel  so  tight,  I 


■■■•■a 


See  page  144. 


MAJOR   JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  1 45 

thought  they  would  bust.  They  was  all  hoUerin' 
semething  down  below,  but  I  could  n't  hear  nothin' 
but  a  terrible  roarin'  sound,  and  the  fust  thing  I 
knowd  something  tuck  me  right  under  the  chin,  and 
before  I  had  time  to  breathe,  kerslash  I  went,  right 
in  the  cold  water,  more  'n  six  feet  deep.  I  got  my 
mouth  chock  full  of  muddy  water,  and  how  upon 
yeath  I  ever  got  out  without  droundin'  I  can't  see  ; 
for  I  was  almost  dead  before  I  drapt,  and  when  I 
come  down  I  hit  sumthing  that  like  to  broke  my  jaw- 
bone, and  skinned  my  nose  most  bominable. 

When  I  got  out,  the  galls  wer  all  screamin'  for 
life,  and  Miss  Mary  was  pale  as  her  pocket-hanker- 
cher. 

'*  Oh,  I  'm  so  glad  you  ain't  hurt  no  wurse,  Majer," 
ses  she  ;  '*  I  thought  you  was  killed." 

But,  Lord  !  she  did  n't  begin  to  know  how  bad  I 
was  hurt.  1  sot  down  on  a  log  a  little,  and  the  fel- 
lers all  come  round  laughin'  like  they  was  almost 
tickeld  to  death. 

"  Was  n't  I  right,  Majer  .'*  —  ain't  they  more  trouble 
to  git  than  they  's  worth  after  you  's  got  'em  } " 

I  didn't  say  nothin'  to  Tom  Stallins,  cause  he's 
Miss  Mary's  brother  ;  but  cousin  Pete  come  up  with 
his  fine  rigins  on,  laughing  like  a  grate  long-legged 
fool,  as  he  is.      Says  he,  — 

"Ain't  you  shamed  to  cut  sich  anticks  as  that! 
I  'd  have  more  sense  —  jest  look  at  your  nose  —  ha, 
ha  !  Ain't  you  got  yourself  in  a  nice  fix  with  yer 
smartness  t  " 

The  galls  was  gitin'  ready  to  go  home  ;  Miss  Mary 
was  lookin'  monstrous  serious. 

"  Don't  you  think  he  looks  like  a  drounded  rat, 
Miss  Mary  ?  "  axed  cousin  Pete. 

10 


146  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  I  think  he  looks  as  good  as  you  do,  any  time," 
ses  she,  looking  as  mad  as  she  could. 

Pete  sort  of  looked  a  leetle  sheapish,  and  turned 
round  and  tried  to  laugh. 

'*  I  would  n't  take  sich  a  duckin'  as  that  not  for  all 
the  sour  grapes  nor  sour  gals  in  Georgia,"  ses  he. 

Thinks  I,  that 's  sort  of  personally  insultin'  to 
Miss  Mary,  and  I  seed  her  face  grow  sort  o'  red. 
It  would  n't  never  do  to  let  cousin  Pete  hurt  her 
feelins  so  right  afore  my  face ;  so,  ses  I,  — 

"You  would  n't,  would  n't  you.''"  and  with  that 
I  jest  tuck  hold  of  the  gentleman  and  pitched  him 
neck  and  heels  into  the  branch. 

When  he  got  out,  he  'lowed  he  'd  settle  it  with 
me  some  other  time,  when  thar  was  n't  no  ladys 
along  to  take  my  part.  That 's  the  way  cousin  Pete 
settles  all  his  accounts,  — some  other  time. 

Tom  Stalhns  tuck  his  sisters  home,  and  the  rest 
of  the  gals  and  fellers  went  along  ;  but  cousin  Pete 
and  I  did  n't  show  ourselves  no  more  that  day.  I 
hain't  seed  him  sense,  tho'  thar  's  been  all  sorts  of 
a  muss  'tween  mother  and  aunt  Mahaly  about  that 
Sunday  bisness.  I  don't  think  I  '11  ever  skin  the 
cat  agin.     No  more  from 

Your  friend,  till  death, 

Jos.  Jones. 

III. 

A   GEORGIA   COON    HUNT. 

That  duckin'  what  I  got  tother  Sunday  gin  me  a 
monstrous  cold,  and  my  nose  feels  jest  about  twice 
as  big  as  it  used  to  before.  Colds  is  curious  things 
any  way  ;  no  wonder  people  always  calls  em  bad,  for 


MAJOR   JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  147 

I  don't  know  nothin'  but  a  downright  fever  'n  ager 
that  makes  me  so  out  o'  sorts.  Why,  I  can't  taste 
nothin'  nor  smell  nothin',  and  I  do  blieve  I  've 
sneezed  more  'n  five  thousand  times  in  the  last 
twenty-four  owers.  I  'm  all  the  time  a  hich-cheein'  ! 
so,  I  can't  do  nothin',  or  I  'd  rit  you  before  now 
about  a  coon  hunt  we  had  tother  night,  whar  I 
cotched  more  cold  than  coons.  But  we  had  some 
rale  fun,  I  tell  you.  It  was  the  fust  coon  hunt  we  've 
had  this  season,  and  I  reckon  it  tuck  the  starch  out 
of  sum  of  the  boys,  so  they  won't  want  to  go  agin  in 
a  hurry.     Cousin  Pete  like  to  cotch'd  his  death. 

You  see,  I 's  got  two  of  the  best  coon  dogs  in  the 
settlement,  and  the  fellers  can't  never  go  without  'em. 
Well,  jest  after  supper  I  heard  'em  comin',  blowin' 
ther  horns  like  they  was  gwine  to  tear  down  the 
walls  of  Jerico,  and  the  dogs  all  howlin'  as  if  heaven 
and  yeath  was  comin'  together.  I  'd  been  layin'  off 
to  go  to  see  Miss  Mary,  but  my  nose  was  n't  quite 
well  whar  I  blazed  it  on  that  dratted  grape-vine,  and 
so  I  thought  I  mought  as  well  go  long  with  'em  ; 
specially  as  they  begged  so  hard  for  my  company, 
(my  patience,  my  nose  feels  jest  like  it  was  the  spout 
of  a  bilin'  tea-kittle),  and  Smart  and  Wise  would  n't 
trail  good  without  me  to  make  'em.  So  I  told  nig- 
ger Jim  to  git  some  light-wood  and  the  axe,  and  let 
the  dogs  out,  and  come  along. 

Well,  cousin  Pete,  he  's  never  said  peas  about  the 
duckin'  I  gin  him,  and  I  wish  I  had  n't  done  it  now, 
for  he  's  a  rite  clever-hearted  feller  after  all,  and,  you 
know,  it  ain't  his  fault  cause  he 's  got  no  better 
sense.  Cousin  Pete  was  along,  with  two  hound 
pups,  and  Tom  Stallins  had  three  or  four  hounds 
and  one   grate  big  yaller  cur,  what  was  n't   worth 


148  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

shucks  to  trail,  but  was  bomination  to  fight.  Ben 
Biers  had  more  dogs  than  you  could  shake  a  stick 
at;  and  sich  another  hellabeloo  as  they  all  made! 
why,  one  could  n't  hear  himself  think  for  'em.  It 
put   me   in   mind   of   what    Shakespear    ses    about 


dogs :  — 


"  I  never  herd  sich  powerful  discord, 
Sich  sweet  thunder." 


Well,  we  soon  tuck  the  woods  down  towards  the 
branch,  and  ses  I  to  Smart  and  Wise,  **  high  on  !  " 
ses  I,  and  away  they  went,  snuffin'  and  snortin'  like 
mad.  The  rest  of  the  fellers  hollered,  *'  steboy  !  sick 
'em,  Tows  !  hunt  'em,  Troup  !  high  on  !  hey  !  "  and 
part  of  'em  went  tarein'  through  the  brush  like  they 
had  a  coon's  tail  within  a  inch  of  ther  noses.  But 
ther  was  two  or  three  young  hounds — and,  you 
know,  they 's  the  biggest  fools  in  the  world — what 
would  n't  budge  ;  and  when  anybody  tried  to  en- 
courage 'em  to  hunt,  they'd  begin  to  squall  like  all 
nater,  and  come  jumpin'  about,  and  one  of  'em  licked 
Ben  Biers  rite  in  the  face.  "  Cuss  your  imperence!  " 
ses  Ben,  *'  I  '11  larn  you  how  to  tree  coons  better  'n 
that,"  and  spang  he  tuck  him  a  side  of  the  head  with 
a  lighterd-knot,  and  sich  another  ki-i  !  ki-i  !  ki-i-in'  ! 
I  never  heard  afore.  Two  or  three  of  'em  tuck  the 
hint  and  turned  tail  for  home. 

It  was  a  bominable  dark  night,  and  every  now  and 
then  it  kep  sprinklin'  a  little.  I  and  two  or  three 
more  carried  torches,  but  some  of  'em  had  none,  and 
was  all  the  time  gittin'  lost,  or  gitting  hung  in  the 
bushes,  and  then  they  'd  holler  out,  "  Hold  the  light 
sumbody,  over  here !  "  till  they  got  out  of  ther  tan- 
glement.  It  was  a  mighty  sight  of  botherment,  and 
we  did  n't  go  very  fast,  you  may  know. 


MAJOR  JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  149 

Bimeby  one  of  the  dogs  opened,  and  we  all  stoped 
to  listen. 

**  Ough  !  ough-ough  ! "  In  about  two  minits  more 
we  heerd  him  agin :  "Ough-ough  !  ough-ough !  ough- 
ough  !  " 

"That's  Majer's  Smart,"  ses  Tom  Stallins. 

"He's  treed,"  ses  Ben  Biers;  "but  he's  way 
tother  side  of  creation." 

"  No,  he  hain't  treed,  but  he  's  on  a  warm  trail," 
ses  I ;  for  I  know'd  by  the  way  he  opened. 

"I  wouldn't  go  whar  he  is  for  all  the  coons  in 
Georgia,"  ses  cousin  Pete. 

"Stop,"  ses  I,  "may  be  he'll  bring  the  trail  up 
this  way." 

Shore  enough,  he  was  comin'  like  a  steam-car, 
every  now  and  then  blowin'  off,  —  "  ough-ough  " 
ough-ough  !  ough-ough  !  "  —  gittin'  faster  and  louder, 
as  the  track  warmed.  Then  old  Wise  struck  in,  with 
his  voice  about  three  pitches  higher  than  Smart's, 
and  Troup  and  Touse,  and  the  w^hole  pack  of  'em 
jined  in,  keepin'  up  a  most  oudacious  racket.  On 
they  come,  and  passed  right  by  us,  gwine  up  the 
branch  towards  old  Mr.  Myrick's  corn  field.  We  all 
turned  and  tuck  after  'em,  but  they  did  n't  go  far  be- 
fore they  all  come  to  a  stop,  and  old  Smart  gin  out 
his  loud  bull-dog,  "  ough  !  —  ough  !  ough  !  "  which 
is  jest  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Here  's  yer  coon  !  " 

When  we  got  up  to  'em,  thar  they  all  was,  friskin' 
about  one  of  the  biggest  kind  of  poplers,  close  to  the 
branch  :  all  barkin'  and  pantin'  and  lookin'  up  into 
the  tree  like  they  seed  the  coon  run  up.  Sometimes 
the  young  ones  would  git  in  the  way  of  the  old  dogs, 
and  the  fust  thing  they  'd  know,  they  'd  git  slung 
more  'n  six  foot  into  the  bushes ;  but  they'd  give  a 


150  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

yelp  or  so  and  come  right  back,  to  git  sarved  the 
same  way  agin. 

Well,  I  tell  you  what,  it  tuck  a  feller  mighty  wide 
between  the  eyes  to  tackle  that  tree,  for  it  was  a 
whopper  ;  but  off  coats,  and  at  it  we  w^ent,  and  by 
the  time  nigger  Jim  got  his  fires  kindled  all  round, 
so  the  coon  could  n't  run  off  without  our  seein'  him, 
the  old  tree  begun  to  feel  weak  in  the  knees. 

"  Hold  the  dogs,  boys  ;  she  's  gwine  to  cave,"  ses 
Ben  Biers. 

The  next  minit,  kerslash  !  w^ent  the  old  poplar, 
right  into  the  branch,  makin'  the  muddy  water  fly  in 
every  direction,  and  before  the  limbs  was  all  done 
fallin',  in  went  the  dogs.  All  was  still  for  about  two 
minits  before  anybody  sed  a  word. 

"  They  've  got  him  !  "  ses  Ben  Biers,  who  was 
standin'  with  his  mouth  w^ide  open  all  the  while; 
**they  've  got  him  !  hurra  !  " 

Then  ther  was  sich  another  rippin'  and  tearin', 
and  barkin'  and  shoutin',  and  runnin'  among  the 
dogs  and  fellers. 

*'  Hurra  !  take  him  !  bite  him  !  sick  him,  Tows  ! 
lay  hold  of  him,  Wise  !  shake  him,  Smart  !  "  and  all 
kinds  of  encouragement  was  hollered  to  the  dogs  ; 
but  every  now  and  then  one  of  'em  would  come  out 
pantin'  and  whinin'  and  holdin'  his  head  a  one  side, 
with  his  ears  all  slit  to  ribbins. 

The  coon  had  the  advantage  of  the  dogs,  for  he 
was  down  in  the  brush  and  water,  so  more  'n  one 
dog  could  n't  git  to  him  at  a  time,  nohow  ;  and  if  one 
of  'em  happened  to  take  hold  of  the  bitin'  eend,  in 
the  dark,  he  was  nearly  licked  to  death  before  he 
could  let  loose. 

Cousin  Pete  was  on  top  of  the  log  with  a  torch  in 
his  hand,  coaxin'  on  the  dogs  as  hard  as  he  could. 


MAJOR   JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  151 

"  Here,  Wolf,"  ses  he,  "  here !  here,  take  hold  of 
him,  good  feller,  —  shake  him  !  " 

Tom  Stallinses  big  cur  jumped  onto  the  log,  and 
the  next  thing  I  know'd  cousin  Pete's  light  was  out, 
and  the  dogs  had  him  down  under  the  log  with  the 
coon. 

"  Oh,  my  Lord  !  git  out !  call  off  the  dogs  !  bring 
a  light,  fellers  !  "  holler'd  out  cousin  Pete  ;  but  be- 
fore we  could  git  thar  the  dogs  like  to  used  him  up 
clean.  The  big  dog  he  was  callin'  knocked  him  off 
the  log  in  his  hurryment  to  git  at  the  coon,  and  be- 
fore the  other  dogs  found  out  the  mistake  they  like 
to  tare  all  his  clothes  off  his  back,  they  and  the  brush 
together. 

By  this  time  the  coon  tuck  the  bank  and  tried  to 
make  off,  most  of  the  dogs  bein'  out  of  the  notion  of 
tryin'  him  agin  ;  but  Tom  Stallins'  big  cur,  after  a 
heap  of  coaxin',  gin  him  one  more  hitch.  The  coon 
had  no  friends  in  the  crowd,  but  the  other  dogs  was 
perfectly  willin'  to  show  him  fair  fight  ;  and  if  any- 
body don't  blieve  a  coon  's  got  natural  pluck,  he  jest 
ought  to  seed  that  same  old  coon,  the  way  he  fit. 
Sometimes  Wolf  would  gether  holt  of  him  like  he 
was  gwine  to  swaller  him  whole,  and  mash  him  all 
into  a  cocked  hat ;  but  it  did  n't  seem  to  have  no  ef- 
fect, for  in  less  than  no  time  he  'd  have  the  dog  rite 
by  the  cheek  or  by  the  ear,  and  he  would  n't  let  go 
till  the  hide  gin  way.  It  was  the  hottest  night's 
work  ever  old  Wolf  undertuck,  and  it  tuck  a  mighty 
chance  of  hollerin'  to  make  him  stand  up  to  the  rack 
as  well  as  he  did.  The  other  dogs  kept  runnin' 
round  and  whinin'  mighty  anxious,  but  they  tuck 
good  care  to  keep  out  of  reach  of  the  coon.  Bimeby 
I   seed  old  Wolf  drap  his  tail  and  kind  o'  wag  it, 


152  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

when  the  coon  had  him  by  the  jowl.  I  know'd  it 
was  all  day  with  him  then.  "Shake  him,  Wolf!  lay 
hold  of  him,  old  feller  !  bite  him  !  "  says  Tom  ;  but 
it  want  no  use  ;  the  dog  was  clean  licked,  and  the 
fust  thing  we  know'd  he  was  gone  for  home,  kind  o' 
whistlin'  to  himself  as  he  went,  —  and  if  nigger  Jim 
had  n't  fotch  'd  my  pistols  along  with  him,  the  coon 
would  got  away,  after  all. 

Cousin  Pete,  who  was  terribly  down  in  the  mouth 
and  as  wet  as  a  drounded  rat,  wanted  to  go,  so  we 
gin  nigger  Jim  the  coon  and  started  for  home.  Some 
of  the  dogs  was  along,  and  they  kep  a  mighty  snort- 
in'  like  they  'd  cotch'd  a  monstrous  bad  cold,  and 
every  now  and  then  they'd  find  sum  new  place 
about  'em  what  wanted  lickin'. 

We  was  most  up  to  the  corner  of  our  field  when 
the  dogs  started  up  something,  and  run  it  a  little 
ways  and  stopped.  Tom  Stallins  and  Ben  Biers, 
and  one  or  two  more,  run  to  'em  before  I  could  git 
thar. 

*'  Thar  it  is  —  that  black  and  white  thing  —  on 
that  log,"  ses  Tom.     "  Steboy  ;  catch  him  !  "  ses  he. 

Ben  run  up  with  his  light,  and  the  fust  thing  I 
heerd  him  say  was,  "  P-e-u-g-h  !  thunder  an  light- 
nin' !  —  look  out,  fellers  !  it 's  a  pole-cat ! " 

But  the  warnin'  was  too  late  for  Ben  Biers  ;  he  got 
scent  enough  on  him  to  last  him  for  a  month.  The 
dogs  got  chock  full,  and  was  rollin'  all  about  in  the 
leaves,  while  Ben  stood  and  cussed  more 'n  would 
blow  the  roof  off  a  meetin'-house. 

It  was  most  day  before  we  got  home.  Cousin 
Pete  and  Ben  Biers  say  they  won't  never  go  coon 
huntin'  any  more  down  that  way,  anyhow.  No  more 
from  Your  friend,  till  death, 

Jos.  Jones. 


MAJOR  JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  1 53 

IV. 

THE    MAJOR    HAS    A    RIVAL. 

Well,  now  I  Ve  got  a  fair  swing  at  Miss  Mary,  for 
she 's  so  close  I  can  jest  call  in  any  time  ;  but  'tween 
you  and  me,  I  'm  fraid  I  'm  gwine  to  have  some 
trouble  bout  this  matter  vit.  Ther  's  a  lot  of  fellers 
scootin'  round  her  that  I  don't  more  'n  half  like,  no- 
how. One  chap's  jest  come  from  the  North,  rigged 
out  like  a  show  monkey,  with  a  little  tag  of  hair 
hangin'  down  under  his  chin  jest  like  our  old  billy 
goat,  that 's  a  leetle  too  smart  for  this  latitude,  I 
think.  He  's  got  more  brass  in  his  face  than  ther  is 
in  mother's  preservin'  kittle,  and  more  gab  than  Mr. 
Mountgomery  and  our  preacher  together.  He  's  a 
music  teacher  and  I  don't  know  what  all,  and  makes 
himself  jest  as  popler  bout  town  as  if  he  'd  lived 
here  all  his  life.  All  the  town  galls  is  gwine  to  take 
lessons  from  him  on  the  pianer,  'cept  Miss  Mary, 
and  old  Miss  Stallins  ses  she  ain't  gwine  to  the  ex- 
pense of  buyin'  a  pianer  these  hard  times,  nohow. 
She  ses  she 's  gwine  to  larn  her  galls  to  make  good 
housekeepers  and  good  wives,  and  when  they  git 
married,  if  ther  husbands  hke  musick,  they  can  buy 
sich  things  for  'em,  if  they  've  a  mind  to. 

"  Yes,  madam,  but  though,  you  know  "  —  ses  the 
imperent  cuss,  the  very  fust  time  he  was  interduced 
into  the  house  by  cousin  Pete,  who  is  jest  as  thick 
with  him  as  two  fools  could  be  —  "  you  know  'com- 
plishments  is  the  best  riches  a  young  lady  can  have; 
'complishments  last  forever,  but  riches  don't." 

"  But  nobody  can't  live  on  'complishments,"  ses 
old  Miss  Stallins  ;  "  not  these  times  they  can't." 


154  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Yes  ;  but  Miss  Stallins,"  ses  he,  "  you  's  rich 
enough  to  give  your  butiful  daughters  every  grati- 
fication in  the  world.  Now  you  had  n't  ought  to  be 
so  stingy  with  sich  charmin'  daughters  as  you  've 
got." 

Well,  cuss  your  imperence,  thought  I,  for  a  stran- 
ger, right  afore  ther  faces,  too  ;  and  I  never  wanted 
to  settle  my  foot  agin  the  seat  of  a  feller's  trowses 
so  bad  afore  in  my  life.  Old  Miss  Stallins  did  n't 
say  much.  I  was  settin'  pretty  near  Miss  Mary,  and 
when  he  begun  to  run  on  so  I  sot  in  talkin'  with 
her,  so  she  could  n't  hear  the  dratted  fool,  but  the 
fust  thing  I  knowed  Mr.  Crotchett  come  and  sot 
right  down  between  us. 

"  Don't  you  think  we  can  'swade  the  old  woman 
into  it.  Miss  Mary,  if  we  lay  our  heads  together }  " 

I  gin  Mary  a  look  as  much  as  to  say,  I  think  he  's 
in  a  mighty  grate  hurry  to  lay  your  beds  together  ; 
but  she  jest  smiled,  and  put  her  hankercher  up  to 
her  face,  and  sed  she  did  n't  know. 

"I  say,  Jones,"  ses  he,  "won't  you  be  a  spoke  in 
my  wheel,  old  feller  }  I  'm  dyin'  in  love  with  this 
butiful  young  lady,  and  I  can't  bear  to  see  her  op- 
TpQvttinities  neglected." 

I  looked  at  the  feller  rite  in  the  face,  and  I  jest 
had  it  on  the  eend  of  my  tongue  to  tell  him  cuss  his 
insurance.  But  Miss  Mary  was  thar  and  her  mother, 
and  I  tried  to  turn  it  off  the  best  way  I  could,  with- 
out lettin'  my  temper  rise. 

"  I  ain't  no  wagon-maker,  Crotchett,"  ses  I,  "  but 
I  've  got  a  nigger  feller  that  kin  put  a  spoke  in  your 
wheel  mighty  quick,  if  that  's  all  you  want." 

Miss  Mary  crammed  her  hankercher  in  her  mouth. 

"Oh,"  ses  he,  "you  don't  take,  —  you  don't  take> 


MAJOR  JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  I55 

Jones  ;  I  mean,  can't  you  help  me  to  court  Miss 
Mary,  here,  and  her  mother  ? " 

I  begun  to  feel  sort  o'  warm  behind  the  ears,  but 
I  thought  I  'd  jest  give  him  a  sort  of  a  hint. 

"  I  reckon  you  won't  need  no  help,"  ses  I ;  "  you 
seem  to  git  along  pretty  fast  for  a  stranger." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  Joseph,"  sed  old  Miss  Stallins. 

"  Then  you  will  give  your  consent,  I  spose,  m^ad- 
am,"  ses  he. 

I  did  n't  breathe  for  more  'n  a  minit,  and  tried  to 
look  at  'em  all  three  at  the  same  time. 

"  What,  sir  "t "  axed  the  old  woman,  openin'  her  eyes 
as  wide  as  she  could  and  drapin'  her  ball  of  nittin' 
yarn  on  the  floor  at  the  same  time. 

"  You  '11  buy  one,  won't  you  }  " 

"  Whew  !  "  ses  I,  right  out  loud,  for  I  felt  so  re- 
lieved. 

Miss  Mary  laughed  more  'n  I  ever  heard  her  afore 
in  company. 

"That 's  what  I  won't,"  ses  old  Miss  Stallins,  jerk- 
in' at  the  ball  till  she  like  to  onwinded  it  all,  tryin' 
to  pull  it  to  her  ;  "  not  these  tiuies,  I  '11  asshore  you, 
oir. 

I  jumped  up  and  got  the  ball,  and  wouhd  all  the 
yarn  on  it,  and  handed  it  to  her. 

"Thank  you,  Joseph,"  ses  she,  — "  thank  you,  my 


son." 


I  kind  o'  cleared  my  throte,  and  my  face  burnt 
like  fire  when  she  sed  that. 

"  Oh,  ho  ! "  ses  he,  lookin'  round  to  me,  "  I  see 
how  the  wind  blows,  Jones,  but  you  might  as  well 
give  up  the  chase,  for  I  don't  think  you  can  shine. 
I  'm  smitten  myself.  What  say  you.  Miss  Mary  ? 
The  Majer  hain't  got  no  morgage,  has  he  ?  " 


1^6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,"  said  Miss  Mary,  —  "  none  at  all." 

"  Any  claim,  Jones,  eh  ?  " 

I  tried  to  say  something,  but  I  could  n't  git  a  word 
in  edge-ways,  and  every  time  I  looked  at  Miss  Mary 
she  kep  laughin'. 

"  Ther  ain't  no  morgage  on  nary  nigger  nor  foot 
of  ground,  thank  the  Lord,  these  hard  times,"  sed 
the  old  woman.  She  was  drappin'  to  sleep,  and 
did  n't  know  what  she  was  talkin'  about. 

It  was  Saturday  night  and  time  to  go  ;  but  I 
was  n't  gwine  till  Crotchett  went,  and  he  did  n't 
seem  like  he  was  gwine  at  all. 

''Wonder  what  time  it  is  }  "  sed  Miss  Mary. 

•'  Oh,  tain't  late,"  ses  he,  "  Is  ther  gwine  to  be 
any  preachin'  here  to-morrow  .'*  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  ses  Miss  Mary. 

"  Are  you  gwine  t  "  axed  Crotchett. 

"  I  bUeve  mother  intends  to  go." 

"  Very  glad,"  ses  he.  "  I  '11  be  very  much  obliged 
to  attend  you." 

"Mother  is  gwine,  I  blieve." 

"  But  won't  you  go,  too  }  I  'm  certain  to  come 
after  you  ;  come,  you  must  say  "  — 

"■  It's  most  ten,"  ses  I  ;  but  he  did  n't  pay  no  'ten- 
tion  to  that. 

"  Shall  I  have  the  pleasure,  Miss  "  — 

''  It 's  ten  o'clock,"  ses  I,  agin,  ''  and  I  'm  a  gwine," 
—  and  I  looked  at  the  feller,  and  then  shook  my 
head  at  Miss  Mary. 

"  I  '11  call  for  you.  Miss  Mary,"  sed  Crotchett, 
pickin'  up  his  hat. 

Miss  Mary  did  n't  say  nothin',  but  kind  o'  smiled, 
I  thought. 

**  Good  evenin',  Miss  Mary,"  ses  I. 


MAJOR   JONES'S   COURTSHIP,  1 57 

—  "That  I  won't,  not  these  hard  times!  "  ses  old 
Miss  Stallins,  jest  wakin'  up. 

"  Good  evenin',  ladies,"  ses  Crotchett. 

Well,  next  morn  in'  don't  you  think  Miss  Mary 
went  to  meetin'  with  that  imperent  cuss,  and  I  had 
to  take  old  Miss  Stallins  and  Miss  Carline,  and 
cousin  Pete  tuck  Miss  Kesiah.  Thar  he  was,  shore 
enough,  and  nobody  could  n't  git  to  say  a  word  to 
Miss  Mary,  and  before  the  galls  was  out  of  the  dore 
he  had  her  arm  in  his.  I  never  felt  jest  zactly  so 
cheap  afore  in  my  life,  to  see  that  journeyman  fiddler, 
what  nobody  did  n't  know  nothin'  about,  walkin'  with 
Miss  Mary  to  church,  and  stickin'  his  big  carroty 
whiskers  right  down  under  her  bonnet,  and  talkin* 
to  her,  and  grinnin'  like  a  baked  possum.  And  what 
made  me  feel  worse,  was  she  seemed  to  take  it  all 
so  mighty  fine. 

Miss  Carline  ses  I  musn't  mind  it,  cause  Miss 
Mary  could  n't  help  herself.  But  I  mean  to  find  out 
all  about  it,  and  if  she  is  big  enough  fool  to  be  tuck 
in  by  sich  small  taters  as  he  is,  I  '11  jest  drap  the 
whole  bisness  at  once,  for  ther  ain't  nothin'  in  crea- 
tion I  hates  wors'n  a  coquet.     No  more  from 

Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 


V. 

AND    WHAT    CAME    OF    IT. 

Well,  ther's  been  adredful  climax  among  the  galls 
in  Pineville  sense  my  last  letter.  Things  has  turned 
out  jest  as  I  spected,  only  a  grate  deal  more  so. 
They  could  n't  went  more  to  my  likin'  if  they  'd  tried. 
That  chap  Crotchett,  what  I  told  you  about,  had  all 


158  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

the  galls  in  town  crazy  round  him,  in  no  time,  and  I 
do  blieve  they  tried  to  see  which  could  get  the  most 
'tention  out  of  him.  The  way  the  feller  did  shine 
for  about  a  week  beat  anything  that  was  ever  seed 
in  Pineville  ;  he  was  callin'  and  takin'  tea  here,  and 
dinner  thar,  and  ridin'  out  with  this  young  lady,  and 
walkin'  out  and  perminadin',  as  he  called  it,  with  that 
one,  jest  as  if  he  was  cousin  or  uncle,  or  some  near 
kin  to  'em  all.  Well,  Miss  Mary  come  in  for  her 
share,  and  I  do  blieve  the  cussed  fool  —  it  makes  me 
so  mad  when  I  think  of  it  —  I  do  blieve  he  had  a 
notion  of  marryin'  her  ;  and  what  was  a  drated  sight 
worse,  she  seemed  to  be  bout  as  willin'  as  he  was. 
He  sed  his  kin  was  all  monstrous  rich,  and  owned 
some  mighty  grate  water-powers  in  the  Jarsey.  He 
told  old  Miss  Stallins  that  he  jest  come  out  south 
to  spend  the  winter,  for  his  health,  and  he  would 
like  to  'stonish  his  people  by  takin'  a  butiful  wife  to 
New  York  with  him  in  the  spring.  He  showed  the 
old  woman  two  or  three  maps  of  thunderin'  big  towns 
that  was  all  on  his  father's  land  ;  one  was  named 
Crotchettville,  and  had  the  greatest  water-powers  in 
it  in  the  world,  he  sed,  'cept  Niagara  Falls,  which  he 
lowed  was  hard  to  beat.  But  old  Miss  Stallins 
was  n't  to  be  tuck  in  so  easy,  and  she  gin  her  galls 
a  good  talkin'  to  right  afore  me  about  the  way  they 
was  blievin'  everything  he  told  'era. 

"A  track  of  land,"  ses  she,  **  is  worth  more'n  a 
bushel  basket  full  of  sich  picter  papers  ;  and  mind 
what  I  say,  galls,  all  ain't  gold  as  glitters.  I  hain't 
lived  my  time  for  nothin',  and  I  don't  blieve  in  these 
Jarsey  water-powers.  Whar  upon  yeath  is  Jarsey, 
anyhow  } "  ses  she. 

"Why,  mother,  Jarsey 's  to  the  north,"  sed  Miss 
Mary. 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  159 

"  Hush,  child,"  ses  the  old  woman  ;  **  your  head  's 
full  of  nothin'  but  Crotchetts,  and  water-powers,  and 
the  North,  and  sich  nonsense.  I  tell  you  I  don't 
blieve  in  'em." 

"  Thar  ain't  no  use  of  gittin'  mad  at  the  gentle- 
man, mother.  I  'm  sure  he  's  very  polite  to  us  all," 
sed  Miss  Mary. 

"  Perliteness  ain't  everything,  my  child,  and  'pear= 
ances  ain't  everything,  nother.  I  don't  blieve  in 
these  outlandish  people,  not  till  I  know  'em  good. 
If  they  ^s  so  monstrous  well  off,  and  sich  big  things 
whar  they  come  from,  what's  the  reason  they  don't 
stay  thar,  and  not  be  always  travellin'  about  for  ther 
health,  and  tryin'  to  marry  every  gall  what  's  got  a 
little  property  .'*  Nobody  that 's  any  account  don't 
never  go  to  the  North  to  git  married,  but  whenever 
anybody  gits  found  out  in  sum  of  ther  meanness, 
they  're  shore  to  go  to  Texas  or  somewhar  else  for 
ther  health." 

Them  's  my  sentiments,  thinks  I,  but  I  did  n't  say 
a  word. 

*'Why,  mother,"  ses  Miss  Mary,  "anybody  can 
see  Mr.  Crotchett  's  a  gentleman  of  refinement  and 
edecation." 

Miss  Kesiah  and  Miss  Carline  kep  lookin'  at  me 
and  then  at  onenother,  and  smilin'  ;  but  Miss  Mary 
looked  as  serious  as  a  judge. 

Old  Miss  Stallins  was  jest  gwine  to  speak,  when 
rap,  rap,  went  somebody  at  the  dore. 

"Thar's  that  plagy  Crotchett,  I '11  lay  my  life," 
ses  she. 

Miss  Mary  run  to  the  dore  as  quick  as  she  could. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  Good  evenin',  Miss  Stallins  —  ladies, 
good  evenin'.  Ah,  how  are  you,  Jones  — here  agin, 
eh  .?  " 


l6o  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

I  felt  my  dander  raisin'  when  the  imperent  cus 
went  and  tuck  a  seat  along  side  of  Miss  Mary,  and 
she  begun  to  smile  and  talk  with  him  as  pleasin'  as 
could  be.  I  knowed  it  would  n't  do  for  me  to  stay 
thar,  so  I  jest  tuck  my  hat  and  went  home. 

"  Good  evenin',  Jones,"  ses  he. 

I  was  in  a  ace  of  cussin'  him  back. 

"  Oh,  don't  go,  Majer,"  ses  Miss  Mary  ;  *'  don't  go 
yet,  Majer." 

I  jest  said,  "  Good  evenin',  ladies,"  without  lookin' 
at  any  one  in  pertickeler,  and  put  out. 

Well,  the  next  mornin'  I  went  out  to  the  planta- 
tion to  tend  to  the  hog-kilhn',  and  I  was  jest  mad 
enough  to  kill  all  the  hogs  in  Georgia.  I  could  n't 
git  that  imperent  cuss  out  of  my  head  all  day,  and  as 
to  Mary  Stallins,  I  did  n't  hardly  know  what  to  think  ; 
sometimes  I  felt  sort  o'  mad  at  her,  but  then  agin  I 
could  n't.  The  fact  is,  it  ain't  sich  a  easy  thing  to 
feel  mad  at  a  right  pretty  gall,  and  the  more  a  man 
feels  mad  at  'em,  the  more  he  's  apt  to  feel  sorry 
too.  I  tell  you  what,  I  was  in  a  stew.  I  did  n't 
know  what  to  do. 

It  was  after  dark  when  I  got  home,  and  when  I 
got  thar,  all  Pineville  was  in  a  buz  ;  everybody  was 
talkin'  about  Crotchett.  Some  said  he  was  a  bigamy, 
and  some  said  he  was  a  thief,  and  I  don't  know  what 
all.  Come  to  find  out  about  i^,  what  do  you  think  t 
His  name  was  n't  Crotchett.  but  Jackson  alias  Brown, 
and  he  was  no  more  a  music-teacher  than  I  was,  but 
a  dandy  barber,  what  had  stole  somebody's  pocket- 
book  with  a  heap  of  money,  in  New  York,  and  then 
run  away,  and  left  his  wife  and  two  children,  to  keep 
from  being  sent  to  the  Sing  Song  Penetentiary.  He 
was  gone,  and  nobody  could  n't  tell  whar,  and  the 


MAJOR   JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  l6l 

man  what  come  after  him  stuck  up  some  notices 
at  the  tavern  and  the  post-office,  offerin'  "$ioo  re- 
ward !  "  for  anybody  to  ketch  him. 

Cousin  Pete  'lowed  he  knowed  he  was  n't  no  grate 
shakes  all  the  time,  and  was  makin'  more  noise  than 
anybody  else  about  gwine  after  him  to  ketch  him  ; 
and  all  the  fellers  that  was  tryin'  to  git  into  Mr. 
Crotchett's  good  graces  was  tellin'  how  they  spected 
something,  and  how  they  had  ther  eyes  on  him ; 
they  was  lookin'  out  for  him,  and  all  that. 

But  Crotchett  was  gone,  and  that 's  what  tuck  my 
eye.  I  did  n't  care  a  tinker's  cuss  who  he  was,  nor 
whar  he  was  gone  to  ;  he  could  n't  shine  'bout  Miss 
Mary  no  more,  with  his  big  whiskers  and  his  water- 
powers  in  the  Jarseys,  and  that's. all  I  cared  for.  I 
don't  know  when  I  felt  so  good ;  not  sense  that  time 
we  went  after  grapes,  and  I  had  to  go  and  "  skin 
the  cat  "  like  a  fool,  and  skinned  my  nose  so  ouda- 
ciously.  I  jest  tuck  one  of  the  advertisements,  and 
writ  on  it,  ''  This  is  a  map  of  Mr.  Crotchett's  water- 
powers  at  the  North,  for  Miss  Mary  Stallins,"  and 
sent  it  to  her  by  one  of  the  little  niggers.  When 
she  read  it  she  laughed  right  out,  and  sed  she  jest 
done  so  to  try  me.  May  be  she  did  ;  but  it 's  my 
turn  to  try  her  now,  and  I  'm  termined  to  do  it.  I  '11 
let  Miss  Marv  Stallins  know  that  I  've  s^ot  a  little 
spunk  too,  and  I  '11  let  her  see  that  I  can  be  as  inde- 
pendent as  she  can.  Don't  you  thiiik  it  would  be  a 
good  plan,  if  I  don't  carry  the  joke  too  far.'*  I 'Ij 
tell  you  how  it  works  in  my  next.     No  more  from 

Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones, 

II 


1 62  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE, 


VI. 


A    RECONCILIATION. 

I  do  blieve  last  week  was  the  longest  one  ever 
was.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  axeltree  of  the  world 
wanted  greasin',  or  something  or  other  was  out  of 
fix,  for  it  did  n't  seem  to  turn  round  half  so  fast  as 
it  used  to.  The  days  was  as  long  as  the  weeks  ought 
to  be,  and  the  nights  had  n't  no  eend  to  'em.  Some- 
how or  other,  I  could  n't  sleep  o'  nights  nor  eat 
nothin',  and  I  don't  know  what  upon  yeath  was  the 
matter  with  me,  'thout  it  was  the  dispepsy,  which, 
you  know,  makes  people  have  mighty  low  sperits. 

Cousin  Pete  thought  he  was  monstrous  smart,  and 
went  all  around  town  and  told  everybody  that  my 
simptems  was  very  bad,  and  sed  he  was  gwine  to  put 
a  strengthenin'  plaster,  made  out  of  Burgemy  pitch, 
on  my  breast,  to  keep  my  heart  from  breakin'.  I 
know  what  he  thought,  but  if  he  sposed  I  was  gwine 
to  make  a  fool'  of  myself  'bout  Mary  Stallins,  he's 
jest  as  much  mistaken  as  he  was  when  he  tuck  the 
show-man  for  Tom  Peters,  from  Cracker's  Neck.  I 
did  feel  sort  of  vexed  about  the  way  she  tuck  up 
with  that  bominable  scoundrel  Crotchett,  that 's  a 
fact  ;  but  then  she  was  so  disappinted  when  he 
turned  out  to  be  a  run-away  barber  that  I  could  n't 
help  feelin'  sorry  for  her,  too.  It 's  a  monstrous 
curious  feelin'  when  anybody  tries  to  hate  somebody 
that  they  can't  help  likin'.  The  more  one  tries  to 
spite  'em  the  worse  he  feels  himself.  But  I  was  ter- 
mined  to  hold  out,  and  if  she  had  n't  come  to,  I  — 
I  —  Well,  the  fact  is  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
a  done,  for  it  was  monstrous  tryin',  you  may  depend. 


MAJOR   JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  1 63 

But  it  's  all  over  now,  and  everything  is  jest  as 
straight  as  a  fish-hook.  Old  Miss  Stallins  was  over 
to  our  house  to  take  tea  long  of  mother,  one  evenin' 
last  week.  She  and  mother  talked  it  all  over  about 
Crotchett  and  Miss  Mary  to  themselves,  and  when  I 
went  to  see  her  home  she  did  n't  talk  of  nothin'  else 
all  the  way. 

"  Bomination  take  the  retch,"  ses  the  old  woman, 
"  to  run  away  from  his  wife  and  children,  the  fidlin* 
wagabone,  and  come  out  here  a  tryin'  to  ruinate 
some  pore  innocent  gall  by  marryin'  her,  when  he  's 
got  a  wife  to  home  !  He  ought  to  be  sent  to  the 
penetentiary  for  life,  so  he  ought." 

"  Zactly  so,  Miss  Stallins,"  ses  I;  "but  he  was 
mighty  popler  'mong  the  galls.  Some  of  'em  was 
almost  crazy  after  him." 

"  I  know  they  was,  Joseph,  I  know  they  was  ;  and 
now  they  want  to  turn  it  all  on  my  pore  daughter 
Mary,  when,  Laws  knows,  the  child  couldn't  bear 
the  creetur,  only  for  perliteness." 

"Yes,  but,"  ses  I,  "she  went  to  church  with  him, 
you  know,  and  he  was  to  your  house  every  night 
when  I  was  thar,  talkin'  to  her." 

"  That  was  only  for  perliteness,  Joseph.  That  's 
what  she  larnt  down  to  the  Female  College,"  ses 
she.  "  If  a  gentleman  comes  to  see  a  lady,  she  must 
be  perlite  to  him,  whoever  he  is  "  — 

Cuss  sich  perliteness  as  that,  thinks  I. 

—  "  And  it  ain't  no  matter  if  she  despises  him  off 
the  face  of  the  yeath,  she  must  talk  and  smile  to 
him  jest  like  she  liked  him  ever  so  much." 

"  But  Miss  Mary  looked  like  she  thought  a  heap 
of  Crotchett,"  ses  I. 

"  It  was  all  decate,  Joseph,  all  decate  and  perlite- 


1 64  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

ness,"  ses  she.  ''That's  the  way  with  the  galls 
nowadays,  Joseph,  and  you  mus'  n't  mind  'em.  It 
didn't  use  to  be  so  when  land  your  mother  was 
galls.  I  '11  warrant  no  Crotchetts  did  n't  come  'bout 
us  if  we  did  n't  like  ther  company,  and  we  had  to 
know  all  about  'em  fore  we  kep  company  with  any- 
body." 

'*  It  ain't  so  now,  though,  Miss  Stallins,"  ses  I  = — 
and  I  blieve  I  sort  o'  dravved  a  long  breath  —  "  it  *s 
very  different  now.  If  a  chap  only  comes  from  the 
North,  or  some  place  away  out  of  creashun,  and  is 
got  a  crap  of  hair  and  whiskers  that  would  make  a 
saddle-pad,  and  is  got  a  coat  different  from  every- 
body else,  and  a  thunderin'  grate  big  gold  chain 
round  his  neck,  no  matter  if  he  stole  'em,  he  's  the 
poplerest  man  mong  the  ladys,  and  old  acquaint- 
ances, whose  been  raised  right  along  side  of  'em, 
don't  stand  no  sort  of  a  chance." 

"  Not  all    the    galls  ain't    so,  Joseph,  —  my   galls 
has  n't  no  sich  fool  notions  in  their  beds,  I  '11  asshore 
you." 
■   By  this  time  we  was  right  up  to  the  door. 

"Come  in,  Joseph."  ses  she. 

"  No,  thank  you,  Miss  Stallins,"  ses  I.  ''  I  blieve 
I  '11  go  home." 

"  Oh,  come  in,  child,  and  set  a  while  with  the  galls  ; 
—  they  's  pullin'  lasses  candy  in  the  parlor." 

I  was  kind  of  hesitatin',  when  I  heard  Miss  Mary's 
voice  say, — 

**  Never  mind,  mother.  I  'spose  he's  mad  at 
me." 

I  could  n't  stand  that,  no  more  'n  a  gum  stump 
could  stand  a  clap  of  thunder.  I  hadn't  heard  that 
voice  for  more  'n  a  week,  and  it  did  sound  so  enticin'. 


MAJOR  JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  165 

It  made  me  feel  sort  of  trembly  all  over.  My  face 
felt  red  as  a  pepper-pod,  and  my  ears  burnt  like  they 
was  frostbit.  When  I  went  into  the  room,  Miss 
Mary  turned  round  with  one  of  the  wichinest  smiles, 
with  her  hair  all  fallin'  over  her  rosy  cheeks,  lookin* 
sweeter  than  the  lasses  candy  what  she  had  in  her 
hand,  and  said,  — 

"  Are  you  mad  at  me,  Majer  ?  " 

I  never  was  so  tuck  all  aback ;  my  throte  felt  like 
I  'd  swallered  a  bundle  of  fodder,  and  I  could  n't 
speak  to  save  me.  I  don't  know  what  would  tuck 
place  if  it  had  n't  been  for  old  Miss  Stallins. 

"  Oh,  no,  Joseph  ain't  mad  with  you,  child.  Ther 
never  was  a  quarrel  'tween  the  Stallinses  and  the 
Joneses,  honey,  and  we  've  lived  neighbors  these 
twenty  years  !  " 

"  What  made  you  think  I  was  mad  with  you,  Miss 
J\Iary }  "  ses  I.  Then  I  kind  o'  stopped  a  little  and 
cleared  my  throte.  ''  You  know  I  never  could  be 
mad  with  you!' 

"  I  thought  you  was,"  ses  she,  "  cause  you  did  n't 
come  to  see  us  any  more  sense  that  night  that  mean 
old  Crotchett  was  here." 

When  she  sed  that,  I  do  think  she  looked  hand- 
somer than  ever  she  did  in  her  life,  and  I  couldn't 
have  the  heart  to  say  anything  to  make  her  feel  bad. 
I  felt  that  all  was  ri2:ht  agin,  and  made  up  my  mind 
to  treat  her  jest  like  nothin'  unpleasant  had  ever 
happened,  I  was  so  happy. 

We  was  all  settin'  by  the  parlor  fire,  and  the  galls 
was  pullin'  lasses  candy.  Miss  Carline  ax'd  me  if  I 
would  n't  pull  some.  I  felt  so  queer  I  did  n't  think 
about  nothin'  but  Miss  ]\Iary,  who  was  pullin'  a  grate 
big  piece,  right  close  to  me. 


1 66  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"Take  some,  Majer,"  ses  she,  "and  pull  it  for  me, 
and  I  '11  give  you  this  when  it's  done,"  and  she  kind 
o'  looked  sideways  at  me. 

"  Well,  I  know  it  '11  be  mighty  sweet,"  ses  I,  jest 
as  I  was  gwinc  to  take  up  some  out  of  the  dish. 

"Take  care,  Majer,"  ses  she,  "it's  dredful  hot. 
Whar  's  the  spoon,  Cloe  }  "  ses  she,  as  she  was  pullin' 
away  as  hard  as  she  could  at  a  grate  big  bright  rope 
of  lasses. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  the  spoon,"  ses  I,  and  in  goes 
my  fingers  right  into  the  almost  bilin'  hot  lasses. 
*'  Ugh ! "  ses  I,  and  I  pulled  'em  out  quicker  'n 
lightnin'. 

"  My  Lord  !  "  ses  Miss  Kesiah, ''  if  the  Majer  hain't 
burnt  his  fingers  dredful.  That  lasses  is  right  out 
of  the  pot,  I  know.  Hain't  you  got  no  better  sense, 
Cloe  -> " 

I  could  n't  help  dancin'  a  little,  ahd  grindin'  my 
teeth,  and  slingin'  my  fingers  ;  but  I  did  n't  say 
nothin'  loud. 

Well,  Miss  Carline  tole  me  bring  some  more  from 
de  kitchen,"  ses  the  cussed  nigger. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  ses  Miss  Mary,  "  I  'm  so  sorry.  Did 
you  git  much  on  your  fingers,  Majer  1 " 

The  tears  was  runnin'  out  of  my  eyes,  but  I  did 
n't  want  to  let  on,  for  fear  it  would  make  her  feel 
bad. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  much.  It  ain't  veiy  bad,"  ses  I ;  and 
the  fust  thing  I  knowed  my  trousers  was  plastered 
all  over  with  the  cussed  stuff  whar  I  rubbed  it  off  on 
'em,  it  burnt  so  alfired  bad. 

They  made  old  Cloe  git  a  basin  of  water  to  wash 
the  lasses  off,  and  old  Miss  Stallins  got  some  soft 
soap  to  draw  the  fire   out,  and  after  a  while  I  sot 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  1 67 

down  with   the   galls  to  eat   candy  and   talk   about 
Crotchett. 

I  tell  you  what,  I  had  the  game  all  my  own  way 
this  time.  I  hinted  to  ]\Iiss  Mary  that  I  was  sort  of 
afraid  Crotchett  was  gwine  to  cut  me  out,  and  that 
I  was  a  leetle  jealous  at  first ;  and  she  hinted  to  me 
that  I  ought  to  know'd  better  than  that,  and  that  I 
ought  n't  to  expect  her  to  show  her  feelins  for  me 
no  plainer  than  she  had  done  before,  and  that  she 
only  tuck  a  little  notice  of  Crotchett  jest  to  try  me, 
to  see  if  really  I  did  think  anything  of  her. 

My  pen  won't  begin  to  tell  my  feelins.  I  never 
felt  so  full  of  talk  before  the  galls  in  my  life,  and  I 
think  in  one  or  two  more  heats  (I  don't  m.ean  the 
hot  lasses)  I  '11  be  able  to  come  up  to  the  pint.  I 
know  I  'm  jest  as  good  for  old  Miss  Stallins's  con- 
sent as  a  thrip  is  for  a  ginger  cake  ;  and  if  Miss 
Mary  ain't  foolin'  (you  know  these  galls  is  mighty 
uncertain)  I  think  I  won't  have  no  difficulty  in  bring' 
in'  all  things  round  as  I  want  'em.  No  more  from 
Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 


VII. 

THE    MAJOR    MOVES    UP    TO    THE    FRONT. 

I  'm  not  a  gwine  to  let  sich  matters  interfere  with 
my  marryin'  specelation.  I  call  it  specelation,  for, 
you  know,  ther  's  no  tellin'  how  these  things  is 
gwine  to  turn  out.  In  the  fust  place,  it  's  a  chance 
if  a  body  gits  the  gall  he  's  courtin',  and  after  he  's 
got  her  all  to  himself,  for  better  or  for  worse,  it 's  a 
chance  again  if  she  don't  turn  out  a  monstrous  site 
worse  nor  he  tuck  her  for.     But  I  think  mine  's  a 


1 68  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

pretty  safe  bisness,  for  Miss  Mary  is  jest  a  leetle  the 
smartest,  and  best,  and  the  butifulest  gall  in  Georgia. 
I  've  seed  her  two  or  three  times  sense  the  candy 
pullin',  and  I  ain't  more  'n  half  so  fraid  of  her  as  I 
used  to  be.  I  told  her  tother  night  I  had  a  Crismus 
gift  for  her  which  I  hoped  she  would  take  and  keep. 

"What  is  it,  Majer.?"  ses  she 

"Oh,"  ses  I,  "it's  something  what  I  wouldn't 
give  to  nobody  else  in  the  world  !  " 

"  Well,  but  what  is  it }     Do  tell  me." 

''Something,"  ses  I,  ''what  you  stole  from  me  a 
long  time  ago,  and  sense  you  've  got  it  I  want  you 
to  keep  it,  and  give  me  one  like  it  in  return." 

"  Well,  do  tell  me  what  it  is,  fust,"  ses  she,  and  I 
seed  her  cut  her  eye  at  Miss  Carline,  and  sort  o* 
smile. 

"  But  will  you  give  me  one  in  return  ? "  ses  I. 

"  What,  Majer,  —  tell  me  what." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  Crismus  eve,"  ses  I.  "  But  will  you 
give  v^^  yours  in  return  }  " 

"  Yonrs !  eh,  my"  —  Then  her  face  got  as  red  as 
a  poppy,  and  she  looked  down. 

"  You  know  what.  Miss  Mary,"  ses  I,  — "  will 
you  i 

She  did  n't  say  nothin',  but  blushed  worse  and 
worse. 

"  Now,  mind,"  ses  I,  "  I  must  have  a  answer  Cris- 
mus eve." 

"  Well,"  ses  she,  —  and  then  she  looked  up  and 
laughed,  and  sed,  — ■  "  exchange  is  no  robbery,  is  it, 
sister  Carline  t  " 

"No,  sis,"  ses  she  ;  "but  I  reckon  Joseph  got  his 
pay  bout  the  same  time  you  stole  his  "  — 

"  Stop,  stop,  sister,  Majer  did  n't  say  his  heart  "  — 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  1 69 

"  There,  there  ! "  ses  Miss  CarUne  and  Miss  Ke- 
siah,  clappin'  ther  hands,  and  laughin'  as  loud  as 
they  could  ;  "  there,  there,  little  innocent  sister  has 
let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag,  at  last.  I  told  you  so, 
Majer." 

I  never  felt  so  good  afore  in  all  my  born  days, 
and  Miss  Mary,  pore  gall,  hid  her  face  in  her  hands 
and  begun  to  cry,  she  felt  so  about  it  That's  the 
way  with  the  galls,  you  know ;  they  always  cry  when 
they  feel  the  happyest.  But  I  soon  got  her  in  a  good 
humour,  and  then  I  went  home. 

I  'm  gwine  to  bring  her  right  up  to  the  scratch 
Crismus,  or  I  ain't  here.     It  would  take  a  barber's- 
shop  full  of  Crotchetts  to  back  me  out  now.    I  '11  tell 
you  how  I  come  out  in  my  next.     No  more  from 
Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos,  Jones. 

VIII. 

THE    MAJOR    POPS    THE    QUESTION. 

Crismus  is  over,  and  the  thing  is  done  did  !  You 
know  I  told  you  in  my  last  letter  I  was  gwine  to 
bring  Miss  Mary  up  to  the  chalk  on  Crismus.  Well, 
I  done  it,  slick  as  a  whistle,  though  it  come  mighty 
nigh  bein'  a  serious  bisness.  But  I  '11  tell  you  all 
about  the  whole  circumstance. 

The  fact  is,  I 's  made  my  mind  up  more  'n  twenty 
times  to  jest  go  and  come  right  out  with  the  whole 
bisness  ;  but  whenever  I  got  whar  she  was,  and  when- 
ever she  looked  at  me  with  her  witchin'  eyes,  and 
kind  o'  blushed  at  me,  I  always  felt  sort  o'  skeered 
and  fainty,  and  all  what  I  made  up  to  tell  her  was 
forgot,  so   I  could  n't  think  of  it  to  save   me.     But 


I/O  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

you  's  a  married  man,  Mr.  Thompson,  so  I  could  n't 
tell  you  nothin'  about  popin'  the  question,  as  they 
call  it.  It 's  a  mighty  grate  favour  to  ax  of  a  pretty 
gall,  and  to  people  what  ain't  used  to  it ;  it  goes 
monstrous  hard,  don't  it  t  They  say  widders  don't 
mind  it  no  more  'n  nothin'.  But  I  'm  makin'  a  trans- 
gression, as  the  preacher  ses. 

Crismus  eve  I  put  on  my  new  suit,  and  shaved  my 
face  as  slick  as  a  smoothin'  iron,  and  after  tea  went 
over  to  old  Miss  Stallinses.  As  soon  as  I  went  into 
the  parler  whar  they  was  all  settin'  round  the  fire, 
Miss  Carline  and  Miss  Kesiah  both  laughed  right 
out. 

** There!  there!"  ses  they,  "I  told  you  so!  I 
know'd  it  would  be  Joseph." 

*' What's  I  done,  Miss  Carline.^"  ses  I. 

'*  You  come  under  little  sister's  chicken  bone,  and 
I  do  believe  she  know'd  you  was  comin'  when  she 
put  it  over  the  dore." 

'*  No,  I  did  n't,  —  I  did  n't  no  such  thing,  now,"  ses 
Miss  Mary,  and  her  face  blushed  red  all  over. 

*'  Oh,  you  need  n't  deny  it,"  ses  Miss  Kesiah  ;  ''you 
belong  to  Joseph  now,  jest  as  sure  as  ther  's  any 
charm  in  chicken  bones." 

I  know'd  that  was  a  first  rate  chance  to  say  some- 
thing, but  the  dear  little  creeter  looked  so  sorry  and 
kep  blushin'  so,  I  could  n't  say  nothin'  zactly  to  the 
pint !  So  I  tuck  a  chair,  and  reached  up  and  tuck 
down  the  bone  and  put  it  in  my  pocket. 

"What  are  vou  2:wine  to  do  with  that  old  chicken 
bone  now,  Majer.?"  ses  Miss  Mary. 

*'  I  'm  gwine  to  keep  it  as  long  as  I  live,"  ses  I, 
"  as  a  Crismus  present  from  the  handsomest  gall  in 
Georgia." 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  I/I 

When  I  sed  that,  she  blushed  worse  and  worse. 

"Ain't  you  shamed,  Majer  ?  "  ses  she. 

"  Now  you  ought  to  give  her  a  Crismus  gift,  Jo- 
seph, to  keep  all  her  life,"  sed  Miss  Carline. 

"  Ah,"  ses  old  Miss  Stallins,  **  when  I  was  a  gall 
we  used  to  hang  up  our  stockins  "  — 

"  Why,  mother  !  "  ses  all  of  'em,  "  to  say  stockins 
right  before  "  — 

Then  I  felt  a  little  streaked,  too,  cause  they  was 
all  blushin'  as  hard  as  thev  could. 

"  Highty-tity  !  "  ses  the  old  lady  —  ''  what  mon- 
strous 'finement,  to  be  shore  !  I  'd  like  to  know 
what  harm  ther  is  in  stockins.  People  nowadays 
is  gittin'  so  mealy-mouthed  they  can  't  call  nothin' 
by  its  right  name,  and  I  don't  see  as  they  's  any  bet- 
ter than  the  old-time  people  was.  When  I  was  a  gall 
like  you,  child,  I  use  to  hang  up  my  stockins  and  git 
'em  full  of  presents." 

The  galls  kep  laughin'  and  blushin'. 

"Never  mind,"  ses  Miss  Mary,  "  Majer 's  got  to 
give  me  a  Crismus  gift,  — won't  you,  Majer.-^  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  ses  I ;  "  you  know  I  promised  you 
one." 

"  But  I  did  n't  mean  that,''  ses  she. 

"I've  got  one  for  you,  what  I  want  you  to  keep 
all  your  life,  but  it  would  take  a  two  bushel  bag  to 
hold  it,"  ses  I. 

"  Oh,  that 's  the  kind,"  ses  she. 

"  But  will  you  promise  to  keep  it  as  long  as  you 
live  }  "  ses  I. 

"Certainly  I  will,  Majer." 

—  "Monstrous  'finement  nowadays,— old  people 
don't  know  nothin'  about  perliteness,"  said  old  Miss 
Stallins,  jest  gwine  to  sleep  with  her  nittin'  in  her 
lap. 


1/2  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

*'  Now  you  hear  that,  Miss  CarHne,"  ses  I.  "  She 
ses  she  '11  keep  it  all  her  life." 

*'Yes,  I  will,"  ses  Miss  Mary;   ''but  what  is  it?" 

"Never  mind,"  ses  I  ;  ''you  hang  up  a  bag  big 
enough  to  hold  it,  and  you  '11  find  out  what  it  is,  when 
you  see  it  in  the  mornin'." 

Miss  Carline  winked  at  Miss  Kesiah,  and  then 
whispered  to  her  ;  then  they  both  laughed  and  looked 
at  me  as  mischievous  as  they  could.  They  'spicioned 
something. 

"  You  '11  be  shore  to  give  it  to  me  now,  if  I  hang 
up  a  bag,"  ses  Miss  Mary. 

"  And  promise  to  keep  it,"  ses  I. 

"  Well,  I  will,  'cause  I  know  that  you  would  n't 
give  me  nothin'  that  was  n't  worth  keepin'." 

They  all  agreed  they  would  hang  up  a  bag  for  me 
to  put  Miss  Mary's  Crismus  present  in,  on  the  back 
porch,  and  about  ten  o'clock  I  told  'em  good  evenin' 
and  went  home. 

I  sot  up  till  midnight,  and  when  they  was  all  gone 
to  bed  I  went  softly  into  the  back  gate,  and  went  up 
to  the  porch,  and  thar,  shore  enough,  was  a  great  big 
meal-bag  hangin'  to  the  jice.  It  was  monstrous  un- 
handy to  git  to  it,  but  I  was  termined  not  to  back 
out.  So  I  sot  some  chairs  on  top  of  a  bench,  and 
got  hold  of  the  rope,  and  let  myself  down  into  the 
bag  ;  but  jest  as  I  was  gittin'  in,  it  swung  agin  the 
chairs,  and  down  they  went  with  a  terrible  racket  ; 
but  nobody  did  n't  wake  up  but  Miss  Stallinses  old 
cur  dog,  and  here  he  come  rippin'  and  tearin'  through 
the  yard  like  rath,  and  round  and  round  he  went, 
tryin'  to  find  what  was  the  matter.  I  scrooch'd 
down  in  the  bas:  and  did  n't  breathe  louder  nor  a 
kitten,  for  fear  he  'd  find  me  out,  and  after  a  while 
he  quit  barkin'. 


MAJOR   JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  1 73 

The  wind  begun  to  blow  bominable  cold,  and  the 
old  bag  kep  turnin'  round  and  swingin'  so  it  made 
me  seasick  as  the  mischief.  I  was  afraid  to  move 
for  fear  the  rope  would  break  and  let  me  fall,  and 
thar  I  sot  with  my  teeth  rattlin'  like  I  had  a  ager.  It 
seemed  lilce  it  would  never  come  daylight,  and  I  do 
believe  if  I  did  n't  love  Miss  Mary  so  powerful  I 
would  froze  to  death  ;  for  my  heart  was  the  only 
spot  that  felt  warm,  and  it  did  n't  beat  more  'n  two 
licks  a  minit,  only  when  I  thought  how  she  would 
be  supprised  in  the  mornin',  and  then  it  went  in  a 
canter.  Bimeby  the  cussed  old  dog  come  up  on  the 
porch  and  begun  to  smell  about  the  bag,  and  then 
he  barked  like  he  thought  he  'd  treed  something. 
"Bow  !  wow  !  wow  !  "  ses  he.  Then  he  'd  smell  agin, 
and  try  to  git  up  to  the  bag.  **  Git  out  ! "  ses  I,  very 
low,  for  fear  the  galls  mought  hear  me.  "Bow! 
wow  !  "  ses  he.  "Be  gone  !  you  bominable  fool !  " 
ses  I,  and  I  felt  all  over  in  spots,  for  I  spected  every 
minit  he  'd  nip  me,  and  what  made  it  worse,  I  didn't 
know  wharabouts  he  'd  take  hold.  "  Bow  !  wow  ! 
wow  !  "  Then  I  tried  coaxin'.  "  Come  here,  good 
feller,"  ses  I,  and  whistled  a  little  to  him,  but  it 
was  n't  no  use.  Thar  he  stood  and  kep  up  his  ever- 
lastin'  whinin'  and  barkin',  all  night.  I  could  n't 
tell  when  daylight  was  breakin',  only  by  the  chickens 
crowin',  and  I  was  monstrous  glad  to  hear  'em,  for  if 
I  'd  had  to  stay  thar  one  hour  more,  I  don't  believe 
I  'd  ever  got  out  of  that  bag  alive. 

Old  Miss  Stallins  come  out  fust,  and  as  soon  as 
she  seed  the  bag,  ses  she,  — 

"What  upon  yeath  has  Joseph  went  and  put  in 
that  bag  for  Mary  ?  I  '11  lay  it 's  a  yearlin'  or  some 
live  animal,  or  Bruin  would  n't  bark  at  it  so." 


174  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

She  went  in  to  call  the  galls,  and  I  sot  thar,  shiv- 
erin'  all  over  so  I  could  n't  hardly  speak  if  I  tried  to, 
—  but  I  did  n't  say  nothin'.  Bimeby  they  all  come 
running  out  on  the  porch. 

"  My  goodness  !  what  is  it  ?  "  ses  Miss  Mary. 

"Oh,  it's  alive!"  ses  Miss  Kesiah.  *' I  seed  it 
move." 

"  Call  Cato,  and  make  him  cut  the  rope,"  ses  Miss 
Carline,  "  and  let 's  see  what  it  is.  Come  here,  Cato, 
and  git  this  bag  down." 

"  Don't  hurt  it  for  the  world,"  ses  Miss  Mary. 

Cato  untied  the  rope  that  was  round  the  jice, 
and  let  the  bag  down  easy  on  the  floor,  and  I  tum- 
bled out,  all  covered  with  corn  meal  from  head  to 
foot. 

"  Goodness  gracious  !  "  ses  Miss  Mary,  "  if  it  ain't 
the  Majer  himself !  " 

**Yes,"  ses  I,  "and  you  know  you  promised  to 
keep  my  Crismus  present  as  long  as  you  lived." 

The  galls  laughed  themselves  almost  to  death,  and 
went  to  brushin'  off  the  meal  as  fast  as  they  could, 
sayin'  they  was  gwine  to  hang  that  bag  up  every 
Crismus  till  they  got  husbands  too.  Miss  Mary  — 
bless  her  bright  eyes  !  —  she  blushed  as  beautiful  as 
a  morning-glory,  and  sed  she  'd  stick  to  her  word. 
She  was  right  out  of  bed,  and  her  hair  was  n't 
komed,  and  her  dress  was  n't  fix'd  at  all,  but  the  way 
she  looked  pretty  was  real  distractin'.  I  do  believe 
if  I  was  froze  stiff,  one  look  at  her  sweet  face,  as 
she  stood  thar  lookin'  down  to  the  floor  with  her 
roguish  eyes,  and  her  bright  curls  fallin'  all  over  her 
snowy  neck,  would  have  fofched  me  too.  I  tell  you 
what,  it  was  worth  hangin'  in  a  meal  bag  from  one 
Crismus  to  another  to  feel  as  happy  as  I  have  ever 
sense. 


MAJOR  JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  1 75 

I  went  home  after  we  had  the  laugh  out,  and  sot 
by  the  fire  till  I  got  thawed.  In  the  forenoon  all  the 
Stallinses  come  over  to  our  house,  and  we  had  one 
of  the  greatest  Crismus  dinners  that  ever  was  seed 
in  Georgia,  and  I  don't  believe  a  happier  company 
ever  sot  down  to  the  same  table.  Old  Miss  Stal- 
lins  and  mother  settled  the  match,  and  talked  over 
everything  that  ever  happened  in  ther  families,  and 
laughed  at  me  and  Mary,  and  cried  about  ther  dead 
husbands,  cause  they  was  n't  alive  to  see  ther  chil- 
dren married. 

It 's  all  settled  now,  'cept  we  hain't  sot  the  wed- 
din'  day.  I  'd  like  to  have  it  all  over  at  once,  but 
young  galls  always  like  to  be  engaged  a  while,  you 
know,  so  I  spose  I  must  wait  a  month  or  so.  Mary 
(she  ses  I  must  n't  call  her  Miss  Mary  now)  has 
been  a  good  deal  of  trouble  and  botheration  to  me  ; 
but  if  you  could  see  her  you  would  n't  think  I  ought 
to  grudge  a  little  sufferin'  to  git  sich  a  sweet  little 
wife.         Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 


IX. 


THE   WEDDING. 

I  am  too  happy,  and  no  mistake  ;  the  twenty-sec- 
ond of  February  is  over,  and  the  "  consumation  so 
devotedly  to  be  wished  for  "  is  tuck  place.  In  other 
words,  I 's  a  married  man  ! ! 

I  ain't  in  no  situation  to  tell  you  all  how  the  thing 
tuck  place,  not  by  no  means,  and  if  it  was  n't  for  my 
promis,  I  don't  blieve  I  could  keep  away  from  my 
wife  long  enough  to  write  you  a  letter.  Bless  her 
little  heart,  I  didn't  think  I  loved  her  half  so  good 


1/6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN-  LIFE. 

as  I  do  ;  but  to  tell  you  the  real  truth,  I  do  blieve 
I  've  been  almost  out  of  my  senses  ever  sense  night 
before  last.  But  I  must  be  short  this  time  while  the 
galls  is  plaguein'  Mary  in  tother  room.  They  is  so 
full  of  ther  mischief. 

I  had  the  license  got  mor  'n  a  week  ago,  and  old 
Mr.  Eastman  brung  home  my  weddin'  suit  jest  in 
time.  Mother  would  make  me  let  cousin  Pete  w^ait 
on  me,  and  Miss  Kesiah  was  bride's-maid.  Mother 
and  old  Miss  Stallins  had  everything  ranged  in  fust 
rate  style  long  before  the  time  ariv,  and  nothing  was 
wantin'  but  your  company  to  make  everything  com- 
plete. 

Well,  about  sundown  cousin  Pete  come  round  to 
my  room,  whar  we  rigged  out  for  the  weddin',  and  I 
don't  blieve  I  ever  seed  him  look  so  good  ;  but  if 
he'd  jest  tuck  off  them  bominable  grate  big  sorrel 
whiskers  of  his,  he  'd  looked  a  monstrous  sight  bet- 
ter. I  put  on  my  fawn-colored  britches,  and  blue 
cloth  cote,  and  white  satin  jacket,  and  my  new  beaver 
hat,  and  then  w^e  druv  round  to  old  Squire  Rogerses 
and  tuck  him  into  the  carriage,  and  away  we  went 
out  to  Miss  Stallinses  plantation.  When  we  got  to 
the  house  ther  was  a  most  everlastin'  getherin'  thar 
waitin'  to  see  the  ceremony  before  they  eat  ther 
supper.  Everybody  looked  glad,  and  old  Miss  Stal- 
lins was  flyin'  round  like  she  did  n't  know  which 
eend  she  stood  on. 

"  Come  in,  Joseph,"  ses  she  ;  "  the  galls  is  in  the 
other  room." 

But  I  could  n't  begin  to  git  in  tother  room,  for  the 
fellers  all  pullin'  and  haulin'  and  shakin'  the  life  out 
of  me  to  tell  me  how  glad  they  was. 

"Howdy,   Majer,  howdy,"  ses  old  Mr.  Byers.    "I 


MAJOR  JONES'S   COURTSHIP.  177 

give  you  joy,"  ses  he;  "yer  gwine  to  marry  the 
flower  of  the  county,  as  I  always  sed.  She  's  a 
monstrous  nice  gall,  Majer." 

"That's  a  fact,"  ses  old  Mr.  Skinner,  "that's  a 
fact ;  and  I  hope  you  '11  be  a  good  husband  to  her, 
Joseph,  and  that  you  '11  have  good  luck  with  your 

little  "  — 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you,  gentlemen  ;  come  along, 
cousin  Pete,"  ses  I,  as  quick  as  I  could  git  away 
from  'em. 

The  dore  to  tother  room  was  opened,  and  in  we 
went.  I  never  was  so  struck  all  up  in  a  heap.  Thar 
sot  Mary  with  three  or  four  more  galls,  butiful  as  a 
anscel  and  blushin'  like  a  rose.  When  she  seed  me 
she  kind  o'  looked  down  and  sort  o'  smiled,  and  sed, 
"  Good  evenin',  Joseph." 

I  could  n't  say  a  word,  for  my  life,  for  more  'n  a 
minit.  Thar  she  sot,  the  dear  gall  of  my  heart, 
and  I  could  n't  help  but  think  to  myself  what  a  in- 
fernal cuss  a  man  must  be  that  could  marry  her  and 
then  make  her  unhappy  by  treatin'  her  mean  ;  and 
I  determined  in  my  sole  to  stand  between  her  and 
the  storms  of  the  world,  and  to  love  her,  and  take 
care  of  her,  and  make  her  happy  as  long  as  I  lived. 
If  you  could  jest  seen  her  as  she  w^as  dressed  then, 
and  you  was  n't  a  married  man,  you  could  n't  help 
but  envy  my  luck,  after  all  the  trouble  I  've  had  to 
git  her.  She  was  dressed  jest  to  my  likin',  in  a  fine 
white  muslin  frock,  with  short  sleeves,  and  white 
satin  slippers,  with  her  hair  all  hangin'  over  her 
snow-white  neck  and  shoulders  in  butiful  curls,  with- 
out a  single  breastpin  or  any  kind  of  jewelry  or  or- 
nament, 'cept  a  little  white  satin  bow  on  the  side  of 
her  head.     Bimeby  Miss  Carline  come  in  the  room. 


178  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  IIFE. 

"  Come,  sis,  they  's  all  ready,"  ses  she,  and  ther 
was  grate  big  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  she  went  and 
gave  Mary  a  kiss  right  in  her  mouth,  and  hugged 
her  a  time  or  two. 

We  all  got  up  to  go.  Mary  trembled  monstrous, 
and  I  felt  sort  o'  fainty  myself,  but  I  did  n't  feel 
nothin'  like  cryin'. 

When  we  got  in  the  room  whar  the  company  was 
old  Squire  Rogers  stopt  us  right  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor  and  axed  us  for  the  license.  Cousin  Pete 
handed  'em  to  him,  and  he  read  'em  out  loud  to  the 
people,  who  was  all  as  still  as  death.  After  talkin' 
a  little  he  went  on,  — 

"  If  enny  body  's  got  enny  thing  to  say  why  this 
couple  should  n't  be  united  in  the  holy  bands  of 
wedlock,"  ses  he,  "  let  'em  now  speak,  or  always 
afterwards  hold  ther  peace  "  — 

**  Oh,  my  Lord  !  oh,  my  darlin'  daughter  !  oh,  dear 
laws  a  massy  ! "  ses  old  Miss  Stallins,  as  loud  as  she 
could  squall,  a-clappin'  her  hands  and  cryin'  and 
shoutin'  like  she  was  at  a  camp  meetin'. 

Thunder  and  lightnin'  !  thinks  I,  here  's  another 
yeathquake.  But  I  held  on  to  Mary,  and  was  ter- 
mined  that  nothin'  short  of  a  real  bust  up  of  all 
creation  should  git  her  away  from  me. 

"  Go  ahed,  Squire,"  ses  cousin  Pete.  *'  It  ain't 
nothin'." 

Mary  blushed  dredful,  and  seemed  like  she  would 
drap  on  the  floor. 

Miss  Carline  come  and  whispered  something  to 
her,  and  mother  and  two  or  three  more  old  wimmin 
got  old  Miss  Stallins  to  go  in  tother  room. 

The  Squire  went  through  the  rest  of  the  bisness 
in  a  hurry,  and  me  and  Mary  was  made  flesh  of  one 


MAJOR   JONES'S  COURTSHIP.  179 

bone,  and  bone  of  one  flesh,  before  the  old  woman 
got  over  her  highstericks.  When  she  got  better 
she  come  to  me  and  hugged  and  kissed  me  as  hard 
as  she  could,  right  afore  'em  all,  while  all  the  old 
codgers  in  the  room  was  salutin'  the  bride,  as  they 
called  it.  I  did  n't  like  that  part  of  the  ceremony 
at  all,  and  wanted  to  change  with  'em  monstrous 
bad  ;  -but  I  reckon  I  've  made  up  for  it  sense. 

After  the  marryin'  was  over  we  all  tuck  supper, 
and  the  way  old  Miss  Stallinses  table  was  kivered 
over  with  good  things  was  uncommon.  After 
playin'  and  frolickin'  till  bout  ten  o'clock,  the  bride's 
cake  was  cut,  and  sich  a  cake  was  never  baked  in 
Georgia  before.  The  Stallinses  bein'  Washingto- 
nians,  ther  was  n't  no  wine,  but  the  cake  was  n't  bad 
to  take  jest  dry  so.  About  twelve  o'clock  the  com- 
pany begun  to  leave  for  home,  all  of  'em  jest  as 
sober  as  when  they  come. 

I  had  to  shake  hands  again  with  'em  all,  and  tell 
*em  all  good  night. 

"  Good  night,  cousin  Mary,"  ses  Pete.  '*  Good 
night,  Majer,"  ses  he.  "  I  spose  you  ain't  gwme 
back  to  town  to-night,"  and  then  bust  right  out  in 
a  big  laugh,  and  away  he  went. 

That 's  jest  the  way  with  Pete  ;  he  's  a  good  feller 
enough,  but  he  ain't  got  no  better  sense. 

Mary  ses  she  's  sorry  she  could  n't  send  you  no 
more  cake,  but  Mr.  Mountgomery's  saddlebags 
would  n't  hold  half  she  wrapped  up  for  you.  Don't 
forgit  to  put  our  marriage  in  the  Miscellany.  No 
more  from  Your  friend,  till  death, 

Jos.  Jones. 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS. 


The  popularity  of  Major  Jones's  Courtship  created  a  demand  for 
another  installment  of  the  redoubtable  Georgian's  adventures,  and 
gave  birth  to  the  series  of  "  Travels  "  which  ensue.  In  making  selec- 
tions from  the  "  Courtship  "  my  aim  was  to  present  a  connected  story 
of  the  hero's  ups  and  downs  with  his  lady-love.  In  the  "  Travels  "  I 
have  picked  out  those  letters  which  retain  a  certain  permanent  and 
general  interest  and  value.  There  is  not  a  little  in  them  to  suggest 
the  wonderful  changes  in  the  progress  of  our  country  during  the 
last  forty  years.  In  Major  Jones's  day  a  trip  from  Pineville  to  New 
York  was  a  great  affair.  Ten  days  at  least  were  required  to  ac- 
complish it.  Now  not  many  more  hours.  The  reader  will,  perhaps, 
be  curious  to  know  why  Mary  did  not  accompany  the  Major  on  his 
'*  travels."  The  following  initial  chapter  furnishes  the  reason.  The 
Major,  writing  to  "  Mr.  Thompson,"  says  :  — 

This  is  a  world  of  disappointment,  shore  enuff .  All  my  plans  is  busted  up,  and 
I  don't  know  if  anything  ever  sot  me  back  much  worse  before.  You  know  I  had 
evrj'thtng  fixed  for  a  journey  to  the  North  this  summer,  with  my  famly.  Well, 
last  nite,  bein'  as  we  was  gwine  to  start  the  next  mornin',  we  had  a  little  sort  of  a 
sociable  party  at  our  house,  jest  by  way  of  makin'  one  job  of  biddin'  good-by  to  the 
nabors.  "Mong  the  rest  of  'em,  old  Mr.  Mountgomery  come  to  see  us,  and  wish  us 
good  luck  on  our  journey. 

Mary  and  all  of  'em  was  in  a  monstrous  f^urryment,  and  had  little  Harry  all 
dressed  out  in  his  new  clothes,  to  let  the  nabors  see  how  pretty  he  looked  before  he 
went  away.  Old  Mr.  Mountgomery 's  monstrous  fond  of  children,  and  always  makes 
a  heap  of  little  Harry,  'cause  he  's  so  smart ;  and  the  old  man  tuck  him  up  on  his 
knee  and  ax'd  him  whose  sun  he  was,  and  how  old  he  was,  and  a  heap  of  other 
things  what  the  little  feller  did  n't  know  nothing  about. 

"Don't  you  think  it'll  improve  his  helth  to  take  him  to  the  North?"  ses  Mary 
to  him. 

"O,  yes!'*  ses  he;  "no  doubt  it  11  be  a  great  deal  of  sarvice  to  the  little  feller; 
but  he  '11  be  a  monstrous  site  of  trouble  to  you  on  the  road,  Mrs.  Jones." 

"  Yes!  "  ses  Mary  ;  "  but  Prissy  's  a  very  careful  nurse;  and  she's  so  devoted  to 
him  that  she  won't  hardly  let  me  touch  him."' 

•'  O,  yes !  "  ses  the  old  man  ;  "  if  you  could  jest  take  Prissy  'long  with  you.  then 
you  'd  do  very  well.     But  there  "s  it,  you  see  "  — 

"  What  ?  "  ses  Mary  ;  "  you  did  n't  think  I  was  gwine  to  the  North  without  a  ser- 
vant, did  you,  Mr.  Mountgomery  ?" 

The  old  man  laughed  rite  out.    "  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  ses  he ;  *'  't  ain't  possible  you  is 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS.  l8l 

gwine  to  take  Prissy  with  you  to  New  York,  is  it  ?  Why,  Majer,"  ses  he  to  me, 
"hain'c  you  gut  no  better  sense  than  to  think  of  takin"  sich  a  valuable  nigger  as  that 
with  you.  to  have  her  fall  into  the  hands  of  them  infernal  abolitionists  ?  " 

"The  mischief  take  the  abolitionists,"  ses  1;  "I  reckon  they  hain't  got  nothin' 
to  do  with  none  of  my  ni.cjgers." 

The  old  man  shuck  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  and  laughed  like  he  would  split  his 
sides. 

"Why,  bless  yer  soul,  Majer,"  ses  he,  "you  could  n't  keep  her  from  'em  a  day 
after  you  got  to  New  York.  No,  no  1  "  ses  he;  "  not  sich  a  likely  gall  as  that. 
They'd  have  her  out  of  yer  hands  quicker'n  you  could  say  Jack  Robinson." 

Prissy's  eyes  looked  like  sassers,  and  Mary  and  mother  and  all  of  'em  stared 
like  they  did  n't  know  what  to  say. 

"  Why,  Massa  Gummery ! "'  ses  Prissy,  "  um  would  n't  trouble  me  if  I  was  'long 
a'  Massa  Joe,  would  dey  ? "' 

"  To  be  sure  they  would,  nigger!"  ses  Mr.  Mountgomery ;  "they'd  take  you 
whether  you  was  willin'  or  not,  in  spite  of  yer  Massa  Joe,  or  anybody  else.' 

"  But,"  ses  Mary,  "  Prissy  would  n't  leave  us  on  no  account ;  she  knows  as  well 
as  anybody  when  she  's  well  treated ;  and  I  'm  sure  she  could  n't  be  better  taken 
care  of  nowhar  in  the  world" 

"  That  don't  make  no  manner  of  difference,"  ses  the  old  man.  "They  would  n't 
ax  her  nothin'  about  it.  The  fust  thing  you  'd  know  she  'd  be  gone,  and  then  y'~'U 
mought  as  well  look  for  a  needle  in  a  haystack  as  to  try  to  find  a  nigger  in  Nca' 
York  " 

Then  he  took  a  paper  out  of  his  pocket  and  red  whar  a  gentleman  had  his  nigger 
tuck  from  him,  somewhar  in  Providence,  and  carried  right  off  and  put  in  jail. 

"  Ki,"'  ses  Prissy,  lookln'  like  she  was  half  scared  out  of  her  senses,  "  den  I  ain't 
gwine  to  no  New  York,  for  dem  pison  ole  bobolitionists  for  cotch  me." 

"  But  ain't  ther  no  law  for  nigger  stealin'  at  the  North  ?  "  says  old  Miss  Stallins. 

"  Law!  "  ses  Mr.  Mountgomery  ;  "  bless  you,  no  !  They  've  sold  all  ther  niggers 
long  ago,  and  got  the  money  for  'em,  —  so  the  law  don't  care  whose  niggers  they 
steal.'" 

Mary  sot  and  looked  rite  in  the  fire  for  'bout  a  minit  without  sayin"  a  word.  I 
jest  saw  how  it  was.  It  wan't  no  use  for  me  to  think  of  her  gwine  with  me, 
'thout  Prissy  to  take  care  of  the  baby;  and  after  what  Mr.  Mountgomery  had  sed 
to  her,  I  mought  jest  as  well  try  to  git  her  to  stick  her  hed  in  the  fire  as  to  go  to  New 
York.  I  never  thought  of  them  bominable  abolitionists  before,  and  I  never  was  so 
oudaciously  put  out  with  'em.  It  was  enough  to  make  a  man  what  was  n't  principled 
agin  swearin'  cus  like  a  trooper.  Just  to  think,  —  everything  reddy  to  start,  and 
then  to  have  the  whole  bisness  nocked  rite  in  the  hed  by  them  devils." 

"  Well,"  ses  Mary,  ''  thar  's  a  eend  to  my  jurney  to  the  North.  I  could  n't  think 
of  gwine  a  step  without  Prissy  to  take  care  of  the  child  ;  and  spose  I  was  to  gi' 
sick,  too,  way  off  'mong  strangers,  —  what  would  I  do  without  Prissy?'' 

"Oh!  it  would  n't  never  do  in  the  world,"  ses  old  Miss  Stallins. 

"  But,"  ses  Mr.  Mountgomery,  "  you  could  git  plenty  of  servants  at  the  North 
when  you  git  thar." 

'  What !  "  ses  Mary  ;  "  trust  my  child  with  one  of  them  good-for-nuthin'  free 
niggers?  No,  indeed!  I  wouldn't  have  one  of  *em  about  me,  not  for  no  consider- 
ashun.  I  never  did  see  one  of  "em  what  had  any  breedin',  and  they  're  all  too  plagy 
triflin'  to  take  care  of  themselves,  let  alone  doin'  anything  else" 

"  No !  but,"  ses  the  old  man,  "  they  've  got  plen.y  of  white  servants  at  the  North, 
what  you  can  hire  for  little  or  nothing." 

'■  Goodness  gracious  ! '"  ses  old  Miss  Stallins  ;  "  white  servants!  Well,  the  Lord 
knows  I  would  n't  have  none  of  'em  'bout  me." 

"  Nor  me,  neither,"  ses  Mary.    "  It  may  do  well  enuff  for  people  what  don't  kuovr 


1 82  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

the  difference  between  niggers  and  white  folks ;  but  I  could  never  bear  to  see  a 
white  gall  toatin"  my  child  about,  and  waitin"  on  me  like  a  nigger.  It  would  hurt 
my  conscience  to  keep  anybody  'bout  me  in  that  condition,  who  was  as  white  and 
as  good  as  me."' 

'*  That 's  right,  my  child,"  ses  old  Miss  Stallins  ;  '"  no  Christian  lady  could  do  no 
such  thmg,  1  don't  care  who  they  is  '"' 

I  know'd  the  jig  was  up,  and  1  was  like  the  boy  what  the  calf  run  over,  —  I  did  n't 
have  a  word  to  say. 

'*  But,"  ses  Mr.  Mountgomery,  "  they  're  brung  up  to  it."' 

"  Well,"  ses  Marj',  "  the  more  sin  to  them  tliat  brings  "em  up  to  be  servants.  A 
servant,  to  be  any  account  as  a  servant,  has  got  to  have  a  different  kind  of  a  spirit 
from  other  people :  and  anybody  that  would  make  a  nigger  of  a  white  child,  because 
it  was  pore,  hain't  got  no  Christian  principle  in  "em." 

"  But,"  ses  Mr.  Mountgomery,  "you  know,  Mrs.  Jones,  when  you're  in  Rome 
you  must  do  as  Rome  does.  If  the  Northern  people  choose  to  make  niggers  gentle- 
men, and  their  own  children  servants,  you  can't  help  that,  you  know  '' 

"  Yes ;  but,'"  ses  Mary,  "  niggers  is  niggers,  and  white  folks  is  white  folks,  and  I 
could  n't  bear  to  see  neither  of  'em  out  of  ther  proper  places.  So,  if  I  've  got  to 
have  white  servants  to  wait  on  me,  or  stay  at  home,  I  "11  never  go  out  of  old  Georgia 
long  as  I  live,  that  "s  what  I  won't." 

"Then,  Mary,"  ses  I,  "  is  our  journey  to  be  busted  up,  shore  enuff  ?" 
"O,  no,  Joseph;  you  can  go,  and  I  "11  stay  home  with  mother.     May  be  I  won't 
have  many  more  summers  to  be  with  her,  and  I  "d  feel  very  bad  afterwards,  to  think 
I  neglected  her  when  she  was  with  us." 

The  old  woman  put  her  arms  round  Mary's  neck,  and  squeezed  her  til  the  tears 
CDme  into  her  eyes. 

"  My  sweet,  good  daughter,"  ses  she,  "  bless  your  dear  hart;  you  always  was  so 
kind  to  your  pore  old  mother." 

That  made  Mary  cry  a  little  ;  and  little  Harry,  thinkin'  something  was  the  matter, 
sot  up  a  squall,  too,  til  his  mother  tuck  iiim  and  talked  to  him  a  bit,  and  then  Prissy 
come  and  carried  him  in  tother  room. 

I  did  n"t  know  what  to  do.  I  always  hate  terribly  to  be  backed  out  of  anything 
what  I  "ve  sot  my  mind  on  ;  but  to  go  to  the  North  without  takin'  Mary  along  was 
something  I  did  n't  like  to  think  about.  But  then,  after  all  my  'rangements  was 
made,  and  I  'd  shuck  hands  and  bid  good-by  to  'most  everybody  in  Pineville,  it  was 
too  'bominable  bad  to  be  disappointed  that  a-way.  But  after  a  while  I  told  Mary 
I  'd  stay  home,  too,  and  go  some  other  time. 

"  No,  no,  Joseph,"  ses  she  ;  "  I  know  you  want  to  go,  and  I  want  to  have  you  go, 
cause  it  "d  do  you  good  to  see  the  North,  and  git  acquainted  with  the  world.  When 
little  Harry  gits  big  enuff  so  he  can  take  care  of  himself,  then  we  can  take  a  journey 
together,  in  spite  of  the  old  abolitionists  ;  and  then  you  "11  know  all  about  the  coun- 
try, and  it  "11  be  a  great  deal  pleasanter  for  us  all.'" 

"  That  "s  a  fact ;  Mrs.  Jones  is  right,  Majer,"'  ses  Mr.  Mountgomery.  "  You  "d 
better  leave  your  famly  at  home  this  time.  You  won't  be  gone  more  "n  a  month  or 
so,  and  I  reckon  Mrs.  Jones  ain't  afraid  to  trust  you  that  long  "mong  the  Yanky 
galls." 

Mary  blushed  terrible. 
"  But,"  ses  I  — 

"  O  !  you  ain't  'fraid  of  her  runnin"  off  with  anybody  fore  you  git  back,  is  you?  " 
ses  he.     Then  the  old  feller  laughed  like  he  would  die 

"  Ain't  you  "shamed,  Mr.  Mountgomery,  to  talk  that  a-way?  "  ses  Mary. 
"You  needn't  be  'fraid  of  that,  brother  Joe,''  ses  sister  Calline-  "for  me  and 
Kizzy  '11  watch  her  monstrous  close  while  you  're  gone 
"  Shaw,"  ses  I  ;  "  you  can't  make  me  jealous.'' 


MAJOR   JONES'S    TRAVELS.  183 

"Nor  me,  neither,"'  ses  Mary. 

Then  old  Mr.  Mountgomery  laughed  till  he  knocked  the  fire  out  of  his  pipe  all 
over  himself,  and  that  sot  the  galls  and  all  of  "em  to  laughin"  worse  than  ever. 

But  I  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Thompson  (and  you're  a  married  man  and  will  blieve 
what  I  say),  I  did  n"t  feel  much  like  laughin'  myself.  I  never  did  like  this  Yanky 
way  of  married  people  livin"  all  over  creation  without  seein'  one  another  more  "n 
once  in  a  coon's  age;  and  the  idee  of  gwine  off  and  leavin'  Mary  for  a  whole 
month  tuck  all  the  rinkles  out  of  my  face  whenever  I  tried  to  laugh.  But  the 
difficulty  was,  I  could  n't  help  myself.  If  I  staid  home,  I  could  n't  be  contented 
about  it,  and  all  the  fellers  Vf-ould  be  rigin  me,  "cause  I  couldn't  leave  my  wife  long 
enough  to  go  to  the  North.  So  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  anyhow,  and  make  the 
best  I  could  of  it. 

Bimeby  old  Mr.  Mountgomery  'lowed  it  was  time  to  b ».  gwine  home  ;  so  he  bid 
us  good-by,  and  promised  to  come  and  see  me  off  to  morrow  mornin'. 

After  :he  old  man  was  gone  we  all  sot  round  the  fire  and  talked  the  thing  over  in 
a  family  way.  Marj'  looked  monstrous  serious,  but  she  's  got  too  much  good  sense 
to  make  a  fuss  "bout  sich  things.  She  ses  I  must  rite  to  her  every  day,  and  I  must 
be  very  careful  and  not  git  shipracked  or  blowed  up  in  any  of  the  steambotes  or 
railrodes,  and  I  must  take  care  and  not  ketch  no  colds  by  exposin"  myself  in  the 
cold  weather  at  the  North,  whar  people,  she  ses,  dies  off  with  the  consumption  like 
sheep  does  with  the  distemper. 

All  our  trunks  has  got  to  be  overhauled,  and  my  things  put  by  themselves,  so  I 
can't  start  til  to-morrow  mornin'.  I  "m  gwine  as  far  as  Augusty  in  my  carriage,  and 
then  take  the  railrode  to  Charlston.  If  no  other  botherment  don't  turn  up  to  per- 
vent,  you  shall  hear  from  me  on  my  Travels  pretty  soon. 


I. 


MAJOR    JONES    TAKES    A    PEEP    AT    THE    (JOVERNMENT. 

Washington  City,  May  19,  1845. 

It  \vas  pretty  late  before  I  got  up  this  mornin', 
and  then  it  was  'bout  a  o\ver  before  I  found  my  \Yay 
down  stairs  after  I  did  git  up.  You  hain't  no  idee 
what  a  everlastin'  heap  of  rooms  and  passages  and 
stairways  ther  is  to  these  big  hotels,  and  to  a  person 
w^hat  ain't  use  to  '0.1)1  it  's  'bout  as  difficult  to  navi- 
gate through  'em  as  it  is  to  find  one's  way  out  of  a 
Florida  hammock. 

As  soon  as  I  got  my  breckfast  I  sot  out  for  the 
Capitol,  what  stands  on  the  hill,  at  the  upper  eend 
of  the  Avenue,  as  they  call  it,  which  is  a  grate  wide 
street  runnin'  rite  through  the  middle  of  the  city. 
When    I  looked    up   to    it,  —  from    the    street,  —  it 


184  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN-  LIFE. 

seemed  like  it  was  n't  more  'n  twenty  yards  off,  but 
before  I  got  to  it  I  was  pretty  tired  walkin'.  The 
gates  was  open,  and  I  walked  into  the  yard,  and  fol- 
lered  round  the  butiful  paved  walks  til  I  cum  to  the 
steps.  The  3^ard  round  the  bildin'  is  all  laid  off  in 
squares  and  dimonds,  jest  like  Mary's  flower-gar- 
den, and  is  all  sot  out  with  trees.  Rite  in  frunt  of 
the  bildin',  on  the  side  towards  the  city,  is  a  curious 
kind  of  a  monument,  standin'  in  a  basin  of  water, 
with  little  babys  and  angels,  all  cut  out  of  solid 
marble,  standin'  all  round  on  the  corners  of  it,  pintin' 
up  to  a  old  eagle  what  looks  like  he  'd  gone  to  roost 
on  the  top  of  it.  It 's  a  very  pretty  thing,  and  the 
water  what  it  stands  in  is  full  of  little  red  fishes, 
playin'  all  about  as  lively  as  tadpoles  in  a  mill  pond. 
I  looked  at  the  monument  sum  time,  and  red  sum  of 
the  names  on  it,  but  sum  I  could  n't  make  out,  and 
the  rest  I  Ve  forgot. 

After  gwine  up  two  or  three  more  pair  of  stone 
stairs,  I  cum  to  the  door  of  the  Capitol.  I  could  n't 
see  nobody  about,  so  I  nocked  two  or  three  times, 
but  nobody  did  n't  answer.  I  waited  awhile,  and 
then  nocked  agin  with  my  stick,  but  nobody  never 
sed  a  word.  Thinks  I,  they  can't  be  home.  But 
the  door  was  open  ;  so  thinks  I,  I  '11  go  in  and 
see  the  bildin',  anyhow.  Well,  in  I  went,  and  the 
fust  thing  I  met  was  two  pair  of  stairs  agin,  both 
gwine  the  same  way.  I  tuck  one  of  'em,  and  after 
gwine  a  little  ways  I  cum  to  another  green  door. 
Thinks  I,  it  won't  do  to  be  too  bold,  or  I  mought 
git  into  a  fuss  with  the  kitchen  cabinet,  and  I  knowd 
a  whig  would  n't  find  no  frends  thar.  So  I  nocked 
agin,  louder  and  louder,  but  nobody  answered 
Well,  thinks  I,  the  government  can't  be  to  home,  sure 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS.  1 85 

enuff,  and  I  was  jest  thinkin'  what  a  bominable  shame 
it  was  for  them  to  neglect  their  bisness  so,  when 
here  cum  a  feller,  what  had  whiskers  all  over  his 
face,  with  three  or  four  galls,  laughin'  and  gigglin'  at 
a  terrible  rate,  and  in  they  went,  without  ever 
nockin'  a  lick.  Well,  thinks  I,  I  've  got  as  good  a 
right  here  as  anybody  else  what  don't  belong  to  the 
administration,  so  in  I  follered  into  the  Rotunda. 

I  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Thompson,  this  Rotunda  is  a 
monstrous  tall  bildin'  jest  of  itself.  Why,  you  could 
put  the  Pineville  court-house  inside  of  it,  and  it 
would  n't  be  in  the  way  a  bit.  A  full-grown  man 
don't  look  no  bigger  in  it  than  a  five-year-old  boy, 
and  I  cum  very  near  nockin'  a  pinter  dog  in  the  hed 
for  a  rat,  he  looked  so  little.  The  sides  is  all  hung 
round  with  picters,  and  over  the  doors  ther  is  some 
sculptures  representin'  William  Penn  swindlin'  the 
Injins  out  of  ther  land,  and  Columbus  cumin'  ashore 
in  his  boat,  and  old  Danel  Boon  killin'  off  the  abo- 
rignees  with  a  butcher  knife,  and  other  subjects 
more  or  less  flatterin'  to  the  national  character. 
The  figers  is  all  cramped  up  like  they  'd  been  whit- 
tled down  to  fit  ther  places,  and  don't  look  well  to 
my  likin'  at  all.  The  places  would  be  a  great  deal 
better  filled  with  single  figers  representin'  our  grate 
generals  and  statesmen.  The  picters  is  very  good, 
and  it 's  worth  a  trip  from  Georgia  to  Washington 
to  see  them  great  national  paintins,  the  Signers  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  the  Surrender 
of  Cornwallis,  Washington  givin'up  his  Commission, 
the  Baptism  of  Pocahontas,  and  the  Pilgrim  Fathers 
on  board  ther  ship.  I  could  looked  at  'em  a  whole 
day,  but  I  had  so  much  to  see,  and  so  little  time 
to  spare,  that  I  only  gin  'em  a  passin'  examination. 


1 86  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Bimeby  I  went  up  to  a  chap  what  was  sitin'  by 
the  door  with  a  book  in  his  hand,  and  ax'd  him  whar 
the  government  was. 

*'  Who  ?  "  ses  he. 

"The  government,"  ses  I,  —  '*  Polk  and  Dallas." 

"Oh,"  ses  he,  "the  President  is  at  home  at  his 
house,  I  believe,  but  I  don't  know  whar  Mr.  Dallas 
is. 

"  Don't  the  President  live  here  .^"  ses  I. 

"  No,  J2>,"  ses  he.  "He  lives  in  the  White  House 
at  the  other  eend  of  the  Avenue.  This  is  the  Cap- 
itol whar  Congress  sets,  but  it  ain't  in  session  now." 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  ses  I,  "  I  thought  the 
government  all  lived  at  the  Capitol." 

"Your  a  stranger  here,  then,  it  seems.'*"  ses  he. 
"  My  business  is  to  show  strangers  over  the  Cap- 
itol.    Do  you  wish  to  see  it }  " 

"  That 's  jest  what  I  cum  here  for,"  ses  I,  "  and 
I  'd  like  very  much  to  see  whar  Congress  makes 
the  laws." 

"  Very  well,"  ses  he,  "  jest  foller  me." 

Well,  he  led  the  way  and  I  follered,  up  stairs  and 
down,  through  passages  and  round  pillars  and  cor- 
ners, under  arches  and  over  roofs,  through  the  Sen- 
ate Chamber,  the  Hall  of  the  Representatives,  and 
ever  so  many  offices  and  committee  rooms,  til  he 
brung  me  out  on  the  top  of  the  dome.  I  never  was 
so  high  up  in  the  world  before.  Thar  was  the  "  city 
of  magnificent  distances,"  literaly  stretched  out  at 
my  feet,  and  I  looked  dozvn  upon  the  dignitaries 
of  the  land.  I  was  indeed  elevated  above  Presi- 
dents and  Cabinets  and  Ministers  of  State.  Houses 
looked  like  martin-boxes,  men  looked  no  bigger  than 
seed-ticks,  and  carriages  and  horses  went  crawlin' 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  1 8/ 

along  over  the  ground  like  a  couple  of  ants  clraggin' 
a  dead  blue-bottle.  The  eye  ranges  over  half  the 
nation  ;  Virginy  and  Maryland  comes  into  the  ten 
miles  square,  and  the  Potomac  looks  like  a  little 
branch  runnin'  through  a  meadow  of  trees  ;  while 
the  Tiber  don't  look  no  more  like  ''the  angry  Tiber 
chafing  with  its  shores,"  in  which  Julius  C?esar  and 
Mr,  Cassius  went  a  swimmin'  with  ther  clothes  on, 
than  our  duck  pond  does  like  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

Well,  after  takin'  a  good  look  from  the  dome,  I 
followed  the  man  what  keeps  the  Capitol  down  agin 
into  the  Rotunda,  and  ax'd  him  what  was  to  pay  for 
his  trouble.  "  Nothing  at  all,"  ses  he,  and  then  he 
told  me  whar  the  statues  was  on  the  eastern  por- 
tico, and  pinted  out  the  place  whar  they  kept  Mr, 
Greenough's  Washington. 

jl  went  out  on  the  portico,  and  what  do  you  think, 
Mr.  Thompson  !  the  very  first  thing  I  seed  waf^  a 
woman  without  so  much  as  a  pettycoat  on  !  Not  a 
real  live  woman,  but  one  cut  out  of  marble,  jest  as 
nateral  as  life  itself,  Thar  she  was,  sort  of  half 
standin'  and  half  squattin'  by  the  side  of  a  man 
dressed  off  in  armor  and  holdin'  a  round  ball  in  his 
hand.  At  first  I  never  was  so  tuck  aback  in  my 
life,  and  I  looked  all  round  to  see  if  anybody  wap 
lookin'  at  me.  I  could  n't  help  but  look  at  it,  though 
it  did  make  me  feel  sort  o'  shamed  all  alone  by  my- 
self. Every  now  and  then  somebody  would  cum  by, 
and  then  I  would  walk  off  and  look  totherway.  But 
sumhow  I  could  n't  go  away.  The  more  I  looked  at 
it  the  handsumer  it  got,  til  bimeby  I  seemed  to  for- 
git  every  other  thought  in  the  contemplation  of  its 
beauty,  Ther  was  sumthing  so  chaste,  and  cold, 
and  pure  about  that  beautiful  figure,  that  I  begun  to 


1 88  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

be  in  love  with  it,  and  I  could  n't  help  but  think  if 
I  was  Columbus,  and  was  n't  marble  myself,  I  'd  be 
tempted  to  give  her  a  hug  now  and  then,  if  she  was 
a  squaw.  I  went  down  off  the  portico,  and  took  a 
front  view  of  it,  and  then  I  looked  at  it  sideways, 
and  then  I  went  up  the  steps  and  looked  at  it  thar 
agin,  and  every  way  it  presented  a  image  of  beauty 
to  dream  of  years  to  come.  Bimeby  the  galls  what 
I  saw  when  I  was  nockin'  at  the  door  cum  up  with 
that  chap  with  the  whiskers,  and  I  backed  out. 

Ther  is  two  other  statues  standin'  on  the  east 
frunt  of  the  Capitol,  one  representin'  the  godess  of 
Peace,  and  the  other  General  Mars,  the  god  of  War. 
They  are  both  very  handsome.  Mars  carrys  his  hed 
like  a  genewine  South  Carolina  militia  captain,  and 
Peace  looks  like  she  would  n't  hurt  anybody  for  the 
world ;  but  ther  is  something  tame  about  'em  ;  they 
look  somehow  like  they  was  cast  in  a  mould. 

After  lookin'  at  them  a  while,  I  went  out  to  the 
bildin'  what  stands  in  the  yard,  and  tuck  a  look  at 
Mr.  Greenough's  Washington  ;  and  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  never  was  so  disappinted  in  my  life.  This 
statue  has  some  terrible  bad  faults,  and  on  first  view, 
before  one  has  time  to  study  and  understand  the  de- 
sign of  the  artist,  creates  anything  but  a  favorable 
impression.  In  the  fust  place  the  position  is  out  of 
keepin'  with  the  character  of  Washington  ;  in  the 
second  place,  the  costume  is  worse  than  the  posi- 
tion ;  and  in  the  next  place,  the  mouth  is  not  good, 
and  destroys  the  character  and  expression  of  the 
face.  Ther  ain't  nothing  Washington  about  it,  to 
my  notion.  The  idea  of  puttin'  a  Roman  togy  on 
Gen.  Washington  is  ridiculous  ;  as  if  he  was  n't 
jest  as  much  entitled  to  be  a  type  of  his  age  and 


MAJOR   JONES'S    TRAVELS.  189 

generation  as  Julius  Caesar  or  any  other  Roman 
hero  is  of  the  age  when  ther  was  no  tailors  to  make 
coats.  It  made  me  feel  bad  when  I  looked  up  and 
saw  Washington's  bare  busum.  The  veneration 
which  Americans  feel  for  the  character  of  Washing- 
ton is  shocked  at  the  exposure  of  that  noble  breast, 
whose  every  throb  was  for  his  country.  It  seems 
like  a  desecration  to  represent  him  in  any  other  way 
than  as  he  was  when  he  was  alive  ;  and  though  ther 
is  something  imposin'  and  grand  in  the  artist's  de- 
sign, the  effect  is  destroyed  by  the  want  of  fidelity 
to  the  character  of  the  man.  I  tried  my  best  to 
overcum  my  prejudices  agin  the  Washington,  be- 
cause it  was  a  American  work ;  but  it  was  no  go,  and 
I  went  back  and  tuck  another  look  at  Columbus  and 
his  Ingin  gall,  before  I  went  down  to  my  hotel. 

After  dinner,  I  went  to  see  the  President,  up  to 
the  White  House,  as  they  call  it,  what  stands  at  the 
other  eend  of  the  Avenue.  All  along  the  way  the 
hackmen  kep  settin'  at  me  to  ride  in  one  of  ther 
carriages.  It  looked  like  only  a  little  ways,  and  I 
wanted  to  see  the  city  as  I  went  along  ;  but  if  I 
stopped  for  a  minit  to  explain  to  one  of  'em,  I  was 
sure  to  have  a  dozen  of  'em  round  me  at  once,  all 
pullin'  and  haulin'  at  me,  and  cusin'  one  another 
for  everything  you  could  think  of.  Washington  's 
so  bominably  scattered  all  over  creation  that  most 
everybody  rides,  and  these  fellers  think  it 's  a  out- 
rage on  ther  rights  to  see  a  gentleman  walkin'  in 
the  street.  I  cum  mighty  nigh  gettin'  into  three  or 
four  fights  with  'em  fore  I  got  half  way  to  the  Presi- 
dent's house.  It  was  a  monstrous  long  walk,  and  I 
was  terrible  tired  fore  I  got  thar.  What  makes  it 
so  deceivin'   is,  the   Capitol  at   one   eend,   and   the 


IQO  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN-  LIFE. 

White  House  at  the  other  eend,  of  the  wide  street  is 
so  large  that  one  loses  all  idee  of  distances  and  pro- 
portions. 

When  I  got  to  the  house,  I  nocked  at  the  door, 
and  a  gentleman  opened  it  and  told  me  to  cum  in. 

"  Good  evenin',  Mr.  President,"  ses  I.  "  I  hope 
yourself  and  famly  is  all  well,"  offerin'  him  my  hand 
at  the  same  time. 

'*  Good  evenin',  sir,"  ses  the  gentleman,  givin'  me 
a  real  Georgia  shake  by  the  hand.  "  It's  not  Mr. 
Polk  your  spakin'  too,"  ses  he,  '*  but  no  offense,  sir  ; 
walk  in." 

"  Why,"  ses  I,  *'  don't  the  President  live  here  }  " 
beginin'  to  think  I  never  would  find  him. 

"  To  be  sure,  sir  ;  this  is  the  Prisident's  house, 
but  it 's  Cabinet  day,  and  his  excellency  can't  be 
seen  by  strangers." 

"Well,  I  'm  very  sorry  for  that,"  ses  I. 

"  And  so  am  I,"  ses  the  gentleman.  *'  But,"  ses 
he,  *'  since  you  can't  see  his  excellency,  you  can  have 
the  honor  of  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff  wid  his  lagal 
ripresintative  ;"  and  with  that,  he  poked  his  snuff-box 
at  me,  and  I  tuck  a  pinch  of  his  Irish  blackguard, 
that  liked  to  put  my  neck  out  of  jint  a  sneezin'. 

As  soon  as  I  got  over  it  a  little,  ses  he,  **  Walk 
this  way,  sir,  and  I  '11  show  you  through  the  public 
rooms,  if  you  would  like  to  see  them." 

After  walkin'  about  awhile  we  cum  into  the  great 
East  Room,  which  is  a  real  stylish  place,  you  may 
depend,  with  gold  chairs,  and  marble  tables,  and  the 
richest  kind  of  carpets,  with  lookin'-glasses  clear 
down  to  the  floor.  I  knew  that  was  the  room  whar 
pore  old  General  Harrison  lay  before  he  was  buried, 
so  I  ax'd  the  man  if  he  know'd  General  Harrison. 


MAJOR  JONES'S    TRAVELS.  191 

•*To  be  sure  I  did,"  ses  he  ;  "I  cum  here  in  Gen- 
eral Jackson's  administrashun,  and  I  've  bin  here 
iver  since.  Ah,  sir  !  "  ses  he,  "  General  Harrison 
was  a  great  and  good  man.  He  was  a  true  dimo- 
crat,  he  was.  We  waked  him  here  two  davs  in  this 
room,  sir,  and  I  shall  niver,  til  the  day  of  my  deth, 
forgit  that  melancholy  sight.  The  gineral  was  none 
of  yer  blarneyin'  politicians,  but  a  true  man,  sir. 
When  he  cum  to  the  White  House  I  wint  to  him, 
and  ses  I,  '  Gineral,  I  'm  a  dimocrat,  and  if  I  'd  had 
a  vote  I  'd  voted  agin  you,  and  now  I  'm  reddy  to 
give  up  my  place.'  '  Don't  think  of  it,  Martin,'  ses 
he  ;  '  1  'm  tould  yer  attentive  and  faithful  in  the  dis- 
charge of  yer  duties.  I  '11  need  such  a  man  about 
me,  and  it 's  not  myself  that  '11  discharge  any  man 
for  his  political  opinions.'  I  kep  my  place,  sir,  but 
the  pore  ould  gintleman,  rest  his  sowl,  was  n't  spared 
to  keep  his.  He  was  kind  to  ivrybody  'bout  him, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  I  used  to  walk  out 
wid  him  whin  he  was  sick  ;  and  if  vou'd  seen  us  to- 
gither  you  could  n't  a  tould  which  was  the  best  dimo- 
crat, the  Prisident  of  the  United  States  or  his  Irish 
futman." 

"  Giv  me  yer  hand,  Martin,"  ses  I  ;  "  I  'm  a  Geor- 
gia whig,  and  I  'm  glad  to  hear  you  speak  well  of  the 
man  I  loved  so  much." 

"  Dimocrat  or  whig,"  ses  he,  "  the  truth  's  all  the 
same.     But  are  ye  all  the  way  from  Georgia  .'*  " 

"I  am,"  ses  I;  ''my  name  is  Jones, — Joseph 
Jones  of  Pineville." 

"  Majer  Joseph  Jones  .?  "  ses  he. 

"  That 's  my  name  when  I  'm  at  home,"  ses  I. 

"  Then  giv  me  yer  hand  agin,  Majer,"  ses  he,  "  and 
tell  me  how  did  you  lave  Mary  and  the  baby  ;  how 


192  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

is  little  Henry  Clay  Jones,  and  the  good  wife  ?  Faith, 
I've  red  yer  book,  Majer,"  ses  he,  "  and  I'm  rite 
glad  to  make  yer  acquaintance.  Will  you  take  an- 
other pinch  of  snuff  ?  "  ses  he. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  sir,"  ses  I  ;  '*  I  ain't  much  used 
to  snuffin'." 

''Well,  no  matter  for  that,  Majer,"  ses  he,  "if  it 
don't  agree  wid  you  ;  I  know  you  used  to  chew  to- 
bacco. But  you  see  I  'm  a  bit  of  a  litterary  man 
myself,  and  I  'm  writin'  a  jurnal  of  my  life  in  the 
White  House,  for  these  last  fifteen  years.  Now  what 
do  you  think  of  the  idee,  Majer  .-^  " 

Then  he  went  into  a  description  of  his  book,  and 
you  may  depend  it 's  gwine  to  be  one  of  the  most  in- 
terestin'  books  ever  published  in  this  country.  You 
know  Martin 's  bin  jest  as  familiar  as  a  mushstick 
with  the  Kitchen  Cabinets  under  General  Jackson, 
Mr.  Van  Buren,  Captain  Tyler,  and  Mr.  Polk,  —  he 
knows  evry  politician  in  the  country,  and  all  ther 
tricks  and  intrigues  ;  and  it  '11  be  monstrous  strange 
if  a  man  of  as  much  natural  smartness  as  Martin, 
with  sich  opportunities,  could  n't  pick  up  enuff  ma- 
terials in  fifteen  years  to  make  a  interestin'  book.  I 
told  him  I  thought  he  had  a  fortune  by  the  tail,  if 
he  'd  only  hang  on  to  it,  and  not  let  anybody  git  it 
away  from  him.  He  gin  me  a  Irish  wink,  as  much 
as  to  say  he  was  n't  quite  so  green,  and  after  a  little 
more  chat  'bout  literature,  politics,  and  matters  and 
things  in  general,  I  bid  him  good-by,  and  went  back 
to  my  hotel.  And  here  I  must  drap  my  pen  for  the 
present.     So  no  more  from 

Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  1 93 


II. 


THE    MONUMENTAL   CITY. 

Baltimore,  May  21,  1845. 

I  left  off  my  last  letter  whar  I  went  to  my  hotel. 
Well,  after  tea  I  red  the  papers  a  little  while,  and 
then  went  out  and  tuck  a  walk  by  moonlight  to  see 
the  city.  I  straggled  round  all  over  the  place  with- 
out payin'  much  attention  whar  I  went,  lookin'  at 
the  public  bildins  and  fine-dressed  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen what  was  in  the  streets,  til  the  fust  thing  I 
know'd  I  found  myself  at  the  gate  in  frunt  of  the 
Capitol.  Thar  it  was  agin,  with  its  stupendous  white 
walls,  and  its  monstrous  high,  dark  dome,  standin'  in 
the  bright  moonlight,  loomin'  up  agin  the  heavens, 
vast,  majestic,  and  sublime,  like  the  stone  mountain 
in  De  Kalb  County.  It  did  n't  seem  possible  sich 
a  everlastin'  pile  could  be  bilt  with  hands  ;  and  I 
could  almost  imagine  it  was  sum  inchanted  castle, 
and  that  the  goblins  and  fairys  was  caperin'  and 
dancin'  in  the  Rotunda  at  that  very  minit. 

I  tuck  a  seat  on  the  stone  steps,  and  looked  up  at 
it  as  it  stood  out  agin  the  blue,  star-bespangled  sky. 
Thinks  I,  this  is  the  hed  of  the  nation,  the  place 
whar  Uncle  Sam  does  his  thinkin'  ;  and  with  that  I 
got  to  ruminatin'  'bout  the  falibility  of  national  wis- 
dom as  well  as  individual  judgment.  Public  men, 
thinks  I,  is  like  idees  :  sumtimes  they  's  good,  and  , 
sumtimes  they 's  monstrous  bad  ;  and  when  they 
git  into  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  they  're  jest  like 
thoughts  in  a  man's  hed,  and  make  the  nation  do  a 
monstrous  silly  thing  or  a  very  sensible  thing,  jest 

13 


I  94  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

as  they  happen  to  be  wise  or  foolish.  If  ther  's  any 
truth  in  the  science  of  frenology,  it  must  effect  the 
Capitol  in  the  same  way  it  does  a  man's  skull,  and  I 
don  t  doubt  that  a  rite  scientific  Yankee  professor 
could  discover  the  bumps  by  feelin'  the  walls  of  the 
bildin',  and  could  tell  what  organ  was  developed  the 
most.  Lately  the  organ  of  secretiveness  has  been 
pretty  strongly  developed,  and  sense  we  've  pocketed 
Texas,  ther  ain't  no  tellin'  whar  we  '11  stop.  Com- 
battiveness,  too,  which  is  very  prominent,  if  you  no- 
tice the  projections  on  the  north  and  south  side  of 
the  dome,  is  very  active ;  and  I  would  n't  be  much 
surprised  if  we  was  to  lick  sum  nation  like  blazes 
before  long.  If  it  was  n't  for  the  excess  of  venera- 
tion which  is  indicated  by  the  fullness  of  the  dome 
on  the  top,  we  'd  been  monstrous  apt  to  pitch'd  into 
John  Bull  before  now.  Too  much  veneration  is  a 
very  bad  fault,  but  may  be  it 's  all  the  better  whar 
there  's  so  much  combattiveness.  I  ain't  much  of  a 
frenologist  myself,  or  I  'd  go  on  and  give  you  a  full 
description  of  Uncle  Sam's  knowledge-box.  I  think 
ther  ought  to  be  a  scientific  committee  appinted 
evry  session  to  make  out  a  complete  chart  of  its 
bumps,  so  the  people  might  know  what  to  depend  on. 
I  could  n't  leave  the  Capitol  'thout  gwine  round 
and  takin'  one  more  look  at  the  Ingin  gall  on  the 
east  portico.  Like  all  butiful  wimen,  she  looked 
handsumer  in  the  soft,  pale  moonlight  than  she  did 
in  the  daytime.  The  outlines  and  shadows  was  not 
so  hard  ;  ther  was  sumthing  dreamy  and  indistinct 
about  her  form,  and  the  'magination  was  allowed 
a  freer  scope  in  givin'  the  finishin'  touches  to  the 
picter.  You  know  all  that  is  necessary  to  create  in 
the  mind   a   image   of  buty  is   the  mere   idee   of  a 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS.  195 

woman,  with  a  object  for  the  'magination  to  work  on. 
Ther  are  certain  times  when  a  man's  'magination 
will  make  a  angel  out  of  a  bed-post.  Well,  as  I 
gazed  at  her,  she  seemed  to  becum  livin'  flesh  and 
blood  ;  and,  as  she  looked  at  Columbus,  stoopin* 
ov^er,  with  her  hands  raised  in  a  attitude  of  wunder, 
I  almost  fancied  I  could  hear  her  say,  "  Christofer  ! 
why  don't  you  speak  to  me  .'* "  I  tuck  a  long,  long 
look  at  her,  and  then  went  to  the  hotel  to  dream  of 
Mary. 

In  the  mornin',  as  soon  as  I  got  my  breckfust,  I 
went  to  see  the  Nashunal  Institute,  whar  they  told 
me  the  government  kep  all  its  curiosities.  Since  as 
they  had  n't  the  politeness  to  tell  me  to  cum  in  when 
I  nocked  at  the  dore  of  the  Capitol  yesterday,  I  tuck 
it  for  granted  the  government  was  too  democratic 
republican  to  stand  on  ceremony;  so  I  didn't  nock 
this  time,  but  jest  walked  rite  in.  Well,  when  I  got 
up-stairs,  the  fust  room  I  got  into  was  the  Patent 
Office,  whar,  the  Lord  knows,  I  seed  more  Yankee 
contraptions  of  one  kind  and  another  than  ever  I 
thought  ther  was  in  the  known  world.  Ther  was 
more  'n  five  hundred  thousand  models,  all  piled  up 
in  great  big  glass  cages,  with  ther  names  writ  on 
'em,  rangin'  from  steam  saw-mills  down  to  mouse- 
traps. Ther  was  ingines,  wind-mills,  and  water- 
wheels  ;  steam-botes,  ships,  bridges,  cotton-gins,  and 
thrashin'- machines  ;  printin'-presses,  spinnin' -gin- 
nies,  weavin'-looms,  and  shingle-splinters  ;  all  on  a 
small  scale.  But  it  would  take  a  whole  letter  to  give 
vou  the  names  of  one  half  of  'em.  I  did  n't  under- 
stand much  about  'em,  and  so  I  went  into  another 
room,  whar  they  had  a  everlastin'  lot  of  shells,  and 
stones,  and  ores,  and  fish,  and  birds,  and  varmints, 


196  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

and  images,  and  so  forth,  what  was  brung  home  from 
the  North  Pole,  by  the  explorin'  expedition.  I  spose, 
to  sum  people,  what  can  find  **  sermons  in  stones 
and  good  in  anything,"  these  things,  what  cost  the 
government  so  much  to  git  'em,  would  be  very  in- 
terestin'  ;  but  I  hain't  got  quite  fur  enuff  in  the 
ologies  for  that  yet ;  so  I  went  into  another  apart- 
ment, whar  they  keep  the  relics  of  the  Revolution 
and  other  curiosities.  This  is  the  most  interestm' 
part  of  the  show,  and  contains  a  heap  of  things  that 
must  always  be  objects  of  the  deepest  interest  to 
Americans.  'Mong  the  rest  is  General  Washing- 
ton's military  cote  ;  the  same  cote  that  has  been 
gazed  on  by  so  many  millions  of  adorin'  eyes,  when 
it  enveloped  the  form  of  the  great  father  of  his 
country.  It  made  me  have  very  strange  feelins  to 
look  upon  General  Washington's  clothes  ;  it  caused 
in  my  mind  the  most  familiar  impression  of  that 
great  man  I  had  ever  felt,  and  which  no  paintin'  or 
statue  could  ever  give.  I  was  lookin'  upon  what 
had  been  a  portion  of  the  real,  livin'  Washington  ; 
and  I  almost  felt  as  if  I  was  in  his  presence.  Close 
by  hung  the  sword,  and  below  was  the  camp-chest 
what  he  used  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution.  What 
a  sight !  to  behold  in  one  glance  the  garment  that 
sheltered  his  sacred  person,  the  provision-chest, 
cracked  and  shattered  in  the  great  conflict,  and  the 
sword  with  which  he  won  for  us  the  blessmgs  of 
liberty,  which  we  enjoy.  How  many  thousands,  in 
centuries  to  come,  will  look  upon  the  remains  of 
these  sacred  relics,  and  bless  the  memory  of  the 
great  and  good  man  ! 

Not  far  from  Washington's  cote,  in  a  case  by  it- 
self, is  the  cote  what  General  Jackson  wore  at  the 


MAJOR  JONES'S    TRAVELS.  197 

battle  of  New  Orleans.  I  stopped  and  looked  at  it 
with  feelins  of  sincere  veneration.  Few  would  sup- 
pose the  victory  of  New  Orleans  was  won  in  sich  a 
coarse  cote  ;  but  it  is  like  the  lion-harted  hero  who 
wore  it,  —  corse,  strong,  and  honest,  without  tinsel 
or  false  gloss.  It  looks  like  the  General,  and  will 
be  preserved  as  a  priceless  relic  of  the  brave  old 
patriot,  whose  days  are  now  drawin'  to  a  close.  I 
never  voted  for  General  Jackson,  cause  I  thought 
his  politics  was  wrong  ;  but  I  always  believed  him 
to  be  a  honest  man  and  a  true  patriot,  and  I  don't 
blieve  ther  's  a  lokyfoky  in  the  land  that 's  prouder 
of  his  fame,  or  will  hear  of  his  deth  with  more  un- 
feigned sadness. 

Ther  's  a  heap  of  other  curiosities  in  this  part  of 
the  bildin',  that  is  well  worth  the  attention  of  the 
visiter.  Among  the  rest  is  General  Washington's 
Commisshun,  and  the  original  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, besides  treaties  in  all  sorts  of  outlandish 
languages,  and  guns  and  pistols  and  swords,  all  cov- 
ered with  gold  and  diamonds,  that  have  been  made 
presents  to  our  government  from  foreign  powers. 
Ther's  a  heap  of  Ingin  picters,  and  among  'em  some 
portraits  of  the  Seminole  chiefs,  what  fit  us  so  hard 
a  few  years  ago.  I  seed  old  Alligator  settin'  up 
thar,  as  dignified  as  a  turky-cock  in  a  barnyard,  and 
I  could  n't  help  but  think  of  the  time  I  seed  the  old 
feller  fall  off  a  log  into  the  St.  Johns  with  all  his 
fancy  rigins  on,  and  a  jug  of  rum  in  his  hand. 
Ther's  sum  very  good  likenesses  among  the  Ingin 
portraits,  but  they  've  got  sum  of  the  triflinest  fel- 
lers in  the  whole  nation  settin'  up  thar  as  grand  as 
Mogulls. 

After  lookin'  at  the  other  picters,  and  busts,  and 


198  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Statues  (and  ther  's  sum  butiful  things  among  'em), 
I  went  down  into  the  lower  story,  and  thar  I  saw 
the  irrate  Sarcofairus  what  Commodore  Elliott  brung 
over  from  Egypt  to  bury  General  Jackson  in.  I 
don't  blame  the  old  General  for  backin'  out  from 
any  sich  arrangement.  In  the  fust  place,  I  don't 
think  it  in  very  good  taste  for  to  be  in  too  big  a 
hurry  to  provide  a  coffin  for  a  man  before  he  's  ded  ; 
and  in  the  next  place,  I  've  got  no  better  opinion  of 
old  second-hand  coffins  than  I  have  of  second-hand 
boots.  I  'd  a  grate  deal  rather  walk  in  the  footsteps 
of  a  dozen  livin',  illustrious  predecessors  than  to  fill 
the  coffin  of  one  ded  King  Fareo.  No,  indeed  ;  the 
old  hero  is  too  much  of  a  proud-spirited  republican 
for  that ;  he  's  not  gwine  to  lay  his  bones  in  a  place 
whar  sum  bominable  old  heathen  king  has  rotted 
away,  before,  and  I  glory  in  him  for  it.  Such  men 
as  Jackson  finds  a  sarcofagus  in  every  true  patriot's 
heart,  that  will  preserve  his  memory,  from  genera- 
tion to  generation,  to  the  eend  of  time. 

After  gettin'  out  of  Uncle  Sam's  curiosity  shop,  I 
went  out  into  his  flower-garden,  what  is  kep  in  a 
long,  low  house,  with  a  glass  roof.  It 's  got  about 
five  hundred  kinds  of  cactuses  in  it,  and  that's  about 
all.  True,  ther 's  a  good  many  little  bushes  and 
weeds,  with  monstrous  hard  names,  and  sum  few 
with  flowers  on  'em,  but  Mary's  flower-garden  at 
home  would  beat  it  all  holler  for  buty  and  variety. 

I  tuck  a  walk  round  by  the  Post  Office,  and  up  to 
the  War  Department  and  the  President's  house. 
The  new  Post  Office,  the  National  Institute,  and  the 
War  Department  is  most  magnificent  bildins,  of 
grayish,  coarse  stone  ;  and  if  they  don't  paint  'em, 
like  they  have  the  Capitol  and  the  President's  house, 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS,  1 99 

they  '11  look  ancient  enuff  to  suit  the  fancy  of  Mr. 
Dickens,  or  anybody  else  who  never  saw  a  new 
country  before,  and  who  think  none  of  the  rest  of 
the  world  ain't  fit  to  live  in,  cause  it  ain't  as  old  and 
musty  as  London. 

By  the  time  I  got  down  to  Gadsby's  I  was  pretty 
tired  ;  and  after  eatin'  a  fust  rate  dinner,  I  got  reddy 
to  go  to  Baltimore.  I  paid  my  bill,  which  was  very 
little,  I  thought,  for  sich  comfortable  livin',  and  got 
my  trunks  all  packed  and  reddy  sum  time  before  the 
cars  started. 

Bimeby  long  cum  the  omnibus  and  tuck  my  trunks  ; 
but  the  depo  was  so  close  that  I  jest  fit  my  way 
through  the  hack  drivers  to  the  cars,  without  any 
serious  accidents.  It  was  a  very  plesant  afternoon, 
and  ther  was  ever  so  many  ladys  an(^  gentlemen  in 
the  cars,  gwine  to  Baltimore,  and  among  'em  sum 
of  the  most  outlandish  specimens  of  human  nater  I 
ever  met  with.  I  thought  I  'd  seed  whiskers  and 
bustles  before,  but  I  find  the  further  north  I  git  the 
bigger  they  grow.  After  a  while  the  bell  rung,  and 
away  we  went,  the  houses,  Capitol,  and  all  waltzin' 
round  behind  us,  til  we  was  out  of  sight  of  the  city  ; 
and  the  posts  of  Professor  Morse's  telegraph,  as 
they  call  it,  gettin'  closer  and  closer  together  the 
faster  we  went. 

But  now  the  scene  is  very  different  from  what  it 
is  on  the  Carolina,  or  even  the  Virginy  rodes.  The 
woods  is  in  little  patches,  and  the  fields  is  smaller, 
and  the  houses  and  towns  is  thicker.  The  country 
is  more  uneven,  and  evry  mile  changes  the  scenery, 
and  gives  one  sumthing  new  to  look  at.  The  track, 
too,  is  even  as  a  die,  and  the  cars  go  like  lightnin' 
and  as  easy  as  a  rockin'-chair.     One  minit  we  was 


200  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

whirlin'  along  between  butiful  farms,  in  the  next  we 
darted  into  a  cut  whar  the  banks  shut  out  the  view, 
and  perhaps  the  next  we  was  crossin'  over  sum  buti- 
ful valley  on  a  bridge,  with  mills  and  houses  and 
people  far  below  us.  We  passed  lots  of  hoses  and 
cattle,  and  sum  of  'em  would  twist  up  ther  tails  and 
giv  us  a  race,  but  we  went  so  fast  that  nothin'  could 
n't  keep  up  with  us  but  the  wire  lightnin'  conduc- 
tors of  the  telegraph,  which  kep  us  cumpany  all  the 
way.  It  's  only  'bout  forty  miles  from  Washington 
to  Baltimore,  and  I  had  n't  begun  to  git  tired  before 
the  monuments  and  steeples  and  towers  of  the  city 
begun  to  show  themselves  in  the  distance,  gittin' 
nearer  and  nearer,  til  we  was  rite  in  among  'em. 

When  we  got  to  the  depo  in  the  edge  of  the  city, 
they  unhitched^  the  lokymotive,  and  hitched  on  sum 
hoses,  that  pulled  us  away  down  into  the  centre  of 
the  city  to  the  railrode  office.  I  could  find  enuff 
for  twenty  pair  of  eyes  to  do,  lookin'  at  this  butiful 
city.  I  had  n't  no  idee  it  was  half  so  large  or  half 
so  handsum.  But  I  had  no  time  to  give  it  more 'n 
a  glimpse  before  we  was  at  the  stoppin'  place,  and 
in  the  middle  of  another  regiment  of  whips,  all  pull- 
in'  and  haulin',  and  axin'  me  to  go  this  way  and 
tother,  til  I  did  n't  hardly  know  which  eend  I  stood 
on. 

Bimeby  one  very  civil  little  man,  with  a  piece  of 
painted  lether  on  his  hat,  ses  to  me,  ses  he,  **  Sir, 
giv  me  yer  checks  for  yer  baggage,  and  I  '11  take  ye 
to  the  Exchange  Hotel,  a  very  good  house,  sir."  It 
was  Hobson's  choice  with  me,  for  I  did  n't  know  one 
house  from  tother,  so  I  jest  handed  him  over  the 
tins,  and  he  went  to  look  out  for  my  baggage.  While 
I  was  waitin*  for  him  a  reinforcement  of  hackmen 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  201 

got  round  me,  and  insisted  on  takin'  me  to  the  Ex- 
change. Well,  I  was  like  the  gall  what  married  the 
chap  to  git  rid  of  him,  and  I  got  into  the  fust  hack 
and  druv  off.  I  was  n't  more  'n  seated,  fore  we  was 
at  the  dore  of  a  grate  big  stone  house,  with  a  dome 
on  the  top  of  it  like  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  what 
the  feller  sed  was  the  Exchange  Hotel.  After  I  got 
out  I  ax'd  the  driver  how  much  was  to  pay.  "  A 
quarter,"  ses  he.  I  pulled  out  my  purse  and  paid 
him,  but  if  I  'd  know'd  it  was  no  further  I  'd  seed 
him  to  Ballyhack  fore  I  'd  got  into  his  hack,  that 's 
certain. 

Soon  as  I  got  in  the  hotel  the  man  in  the  office 
laid  a  big  book  out  before  me  and  gin  me  a  pen.  I 
know'd  what  he  ment,  so  I  put  my  name  down,  — 
Jos.  Jones,  Pineville,  Geo.,  as  plain  as  a  pike-staff. 
I  had  n't  more  'n  finished  writin'  my  name  before 
here  cum  the  man  with  my  trunks,  and  in  a  minit 
after  I  found  myself  up  stairs  in  No.  2^,  whar  I  am 
now  writin'  to  you,  and  whar  I  expect  to  remain  for 
a  day  or  two.  I  mean  to  go  to  bed  early  to-night, 
and  take  a  fresh  start  in  the  mornin'  to  look  at  Bal- 
timore.    So  no  more  from 

Your  friend  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 

III. 

THE   major's   adventures    IN    BALTIMORE. 

No.  27,  Exchange  Hotel, 

Baltimore,  May  21,  1845. 

I  waked  up  this  mornin'  bright  and  early,  but  I 
felt  so  monstrous  tired  that  I  did  n't  git  rite  out  of 
bed.     Well,  while  I  was  layin'  thar,  lookin'  round 


202  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

the  room  at  the  fine  furniture,  — at  the  splendid  ma 
hogany  burow  and  wardrobe,  the  marble-top'd  wash- 
stand,  and  the  cast-iron  fire-place,  and  a  heap  of 
other  curious  fixins,  —  I  seed  a  green  cord  with  a 
tossel  on  the  eend  of  it,  hangin'  down  by  the  hed  of 
my  bed.  Thinks  I  that  must  be  to  pull  the  winder 
blinds,  to  let  the  light  in,  and  as  it  was  rayther  dark  I 
tuck  hold  of  it  and  pulled  it  easy  two  or  three  times; 
but  the  thing  seemed  to  be  hitched  sumwhar,  and 
the  blinds  did  n't  move  a  bit.  I  was  n't  more  'n  done 
pullin'  it  before  sumbody  nocked  at  my  dore,  and  as 
I  did  n't  know  who  it  mought  be  I  covered  up  good, 
and  ses  I,  "  Cum  in." 

A  nigger  feller  opened  the  dore,  and  stood  thar  for 
'bout  a  minit,  lookin'  at  me  like  he  wanted  sumthing, 
'thout  sayin'  a  word. 

"  Well,  buck,"  ses  I,  "  what 's  the  matter }  "  begin- 
nin'  to  think  he  had  a  monstrous  sight  of  imper- 
ence. 

**  I  cum  to  see  what  the  gemmen  wants,"  ses  he. 

"Well,"  ses  I,  '*  I  don't  want  nothin'." 

He  looked  sort  o'  sideways  at  me  and  put  out. 

After  studyin'  a  bit  to  try  to  make  out  what  upon 
yeath  could  brung  him  to  my  room,  I  put  my  hand 
out  and  tried  the  curtains  agin  ;  and  the  fust  thing 
I  know'd  here  cum  the  same  chap  back  agin. 

This  time  I  looked  at  him  pretty  sharp,  and  ses  I, 
**  What  upon  yeath  do  you  mean  .?  " 

With  that  he  begun  bowin'  and  scrapin'  and 
scratchin'  his  hed,  and  ses  he,  "Didn't  you  ring, 
sir.'' 

"  Ring  what.''  "  ses  I. 

**  Your  bell,"  ses  he. 

I  was  bep'nnin'  to  git  pretty  considerable  riled. 


MAJOR   JONES'S    TRAVELS.  203 

and  ses  I,  "  I  don't  carry  no  bell,  but  I  can  jest  tell 
you  what  it  is,  my  buck  :  if  you  go  to  cumin'  any 
of  yer  free  nigger  nonsense  over  me,  I  '11  ring  yer 
cussed  neck  off  quicker 'n  lightnin'." 

And  with  that  I  started  to  git  out  of  the  bed,  but 
ther  was  no  nigger  thar  when  my  feet  tetched  the 
floor. 

It  was  too  dark  to  dress,  so  I  tuck  another  pull  or 
two  at  the  blinds  ;  and  while  I  was  puUin'  and  jerkin' 
at  'em,  here  cums  another  big  nigger,  to  know  what 
I  wanted.  By  this  time  I  begun  to  spicion  thar  was 
sumthing  rong  ;  and  shore  enuff,  cum  to  find  out, 
I  'd  been  pullin'  a  bell  rope  all  the  time,  what  kep 
up  a  terrible  ringin'  down  stairs,  though  I  could  n't 
hear  the  least  sign  of  it  myself.  I  'd  seed  them 
things  hangin'  round  in  the  rooms  at  the  Charles- 
ton Hotel,  and  at  Gadsby's,  but  I  never  know'd 
what  they  was  before.  Well,  thinks  I,  live  and 
larn.     I  '11  know  a  bell  rope  when  I  see  it  agin. 

After  findin'  my  way  down  stairs  I  went  in  the 
t)arber's  room  and  got  shaved,  and  I  do  blieve,  if  it 
had  n't  been  so  early  in  the  mornin',  I  should  went 
spang  to  sleep  while  Billy  was  takin'  my  beard  off. 
That  feller 's  a  real  magnetiser  ;  and  he  goes  through 
the  bisness  so  easy  that  you  can't  hardly  tell  whether 
he  's  usin'  the  brush  or  the  razor  ;  and  by  the  time 
he  's  done,  your  face  is  so  smooth  that  it  takes  a 
pretty  good  memory  to  remember  whether  you  ever 
had  any  beard  or  not.  After  brushin'  and  combin' 
a  little,  I  went  out  into  the  readin'-room  and  looked 
over  the  papers  til  breckfust. 

I  was  settin'  on  the  sofa  readin'  in  the  National 
Intelligencer,  when  the  fust  thing  I  know'd  I  thought 
the  whole  roof  of  the   bildin'  was   cumin'  down  on 


204  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

top  of  my  hed.  Whow  !  row  !  whow-wow  !  went 
sumtbing  like  the  very  heavens  and  yeath  was 
cumin'  together.  I  could  n't  hear  myself  think,  and 
I  was  makin'  for  one  of  the  winders  as  fast  as  I 
could,  when  the  everlastin'  rumpus  stopped.  I  ax'd 
sumbody  what  in  the  name  of  thunder  it  was.  "  O, 
you  need  n't  be  larmed,"  ses  he,  "  it 's  nothin'  but 
the  breckfust  gong."  I  was  jest  about  as  wise  then 
as  I  was  before,  but  I  know'd  it  had  sumthing  to  do 
with  breckfust,  and  my  appetite  soon  cum  back  to 
me  agin. 

You  know  I  always  used  to  drink  coffee,  and  I  'm 
monstrous  fond  of  it  yet ;  but  bein'  as  I  did  n't  feel 
very  well  this  mornin',  when  the  waiter  ax'd  me 
which  I  *d  have,  I  sed  **  tea." 

"  Black  or  green  }  "  ses  he. 

I  looked  at  the  feller,  and  ses  I,  "  What } " 

''  Will  you  have  black  or  green  tea  } "  ses  he. 

I  did  n't  know  whether  he  was  projectin'  with  me 
or  not,  so  ses  I,  "  I  want  a  cup  of  tea,  jest  plain  tea, 
without  no  fancy  colorin'  about  it." 

That  settled  the  bisness,  and  in  a  minit  he  brung 
me  a  grate  big  cup  of  tea  that  looked  almost  as 
strong  as  coffee  ;  but  it  was  monstrous  good,  and  I 
made  out  a  fust  rate  breckfust. 

After  breckfust  I  tuck  a  walk  out  to  see  the  city, 
and  shore  enuff  it  is  a  city !  Gracious  knows,  I 
thought  Charleston,  and  Richmond,  and  Washing- 
ton was  big  enuff,  but  Baltimore  lays  'em  all  in  the 
shade.  It  ain't  only  a  long  ways  ahed  of  'em  all  in 
pint  of  size,  but  it 's  a  monstrous  sight  the  hand- 
sumest.  The  streets  is  wide  enuff,  and  then  ther 
ain't  no  two  of  them  alike,  and  evry  corner  you  turn 
gives  you  a  new  view,  as  different  from  the  other  as 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  20$ 

if  you  was  in  another  city.  Monuments  and  steeples, 
and  minarets  and  towers,  and  domes  and  columns, 
and  piazzas  and  porticos,  and  pillars  of  all  orders, 
sizes,  and  heights,  is  constantly  changin'  before  you; 
and  the  ground  rises  and  falls  in  butiful  hills  and 
hollers,  as  if  it  tried  to  do  its  share  towards  givin* 
variety  and  buty  to  the  view.  Baltimore  Street  is 
the  principal  street,  and  you  may  depend  it 's  got  a 
heap  of  fine  stores  on  it. 

After  takin'  a  good  stretch  on  Baltimore  Street, 
lookin'  at  the  picter  shops  and  show-winders,  I  struck 
out  into  Calvert  Street,  whar  the  monument  stands 
what  was  raised  to  the  brave  fellers  what  licked  the 
British  at  the  battle  of  North  Pint,  in  the  last  war. 
It 's  a  good  deal  bigger  than  the  Naval  Monument 
at  Washington,  and,  to  my  notion,  it 's  a  grate  deal 
handsomer.  Its  proportions  is  good,  and  the  de- 
sign is  very  butiful. 

After  takin'  a  good  look  at  the  monument,  I 
walked  along  down  by  sum  fine  large  brick  houses 
with  marble  porticos  to  'em,  and  winder-glasses  so 
clean  you  mought  see  yer  face  in  'em,  lookin'  back 
now  and  then  at  the  woman  on  top  of  the  monu- 
ment, when  the  fust  thing  I  know'd  I  got  a  most 
alfired  skeer,  that  made  me  jump  clear  off  the  side- 
walk into  the  street,  before  I  know'd  what  I  was 
about.  "■  Get  out  !  "  ses  I,  at  a  cussed  grate  big 
fierce-lookin'  dog  upon  one  of  the  porticos,  that 
looked  like  he  was  gwine  to  take  rite  hold  of  me. 
"  Seize  him,  Tiger  !  "  ses  a  chap  what  was  gwine  by, 
laughin',  and  I  raised  my  stick  quicker  'n  lightnin', 
but  the  dog  never  moved  a  peg.  Cum  to  find  out, 
it  was  nothin'  but  a  statue  of  a  dog  made  out  of 
stone  or  iron,  put  up  thar  to  watch  the  dore  and 


20b  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

keep  off  house-brakers,  I  spose.  I  got  over  my 
skare  and  went  along,  but  I  could  n't  help  thinkin' 
it  was  monstrous  bad  taste  to  have  sich  a  fierce- 
lookin'  thing  standin'  rite  before  a  body's  dore  that- 
away.  If  he  was  lyin'  down  asleep  he  'd  look  jest 
as  natural,  and  would  n't  be  apt  to  frighten  anybody 
out  of  ther  senses  fore  they  know'd  what  it  was. 

Bimeby  I  cum  to  a  open  place,  with  a  butiful  lit- 
tle temple  standin'  back  in  the  yard,  under  the 
trees,  and  over  the  gate  was  a  sign  what  sed  "  City 
Springs."  Well,  as  I  felt  pretty  dry  by  this  time,  I 
thought  I  'd  go  in  and  git  sum  water.  When  I  got 
to  the  house  what  was  standin'  over  the  spring  on 
butiful  round  pillars,  and  was  gwine  down  the  white 
stone  steps,  I  seed  a  whole  heap  of  galls  down  thar, 
playin'  and  dabblin'  in  the  water,  and  sprinklin'  and 
splashin'  one  another,  and  laughin'  and  carryin'  on 
like  the  mischief.  I  'd  heard  a  grate  deal  about 
Baltimore  buty,  and  I  thought  I  'd  jest  take  a  peep 
at  'em  while  they  did  n't  see  me,  and  when  they 
was  n't  suspectin'  anybody  was  lookin'  at  'em.  Well, 
thar  they  was,  five  or  six  of  'em,  all  'bout  sixteen 
and  seventeen,  with  ther  butiful  faces  flushed  up, 
and  ther  dark  eyes  sparklin'  with  excitement,  while 
ther  glossy  ringlets,  in  which  the  crystal  water  glit- 
tered like  dimonds,  fell  in  confusion  over  ther  white 
necks  and  shoulders.  They  was  butiful  young  cre- 
ters  ;  and  as  I  leaned  over  the  wall,  lookin'  down  on 
'em  as  they  was  wrestlin'  and  jumpin'  and  skippin' 
about  as  graceful  as  young  fawns,  I  almost  thought 
they  w^as  real  water-nymphs,  and  I  was  'fraid  to 
breathe  hard  for  fear  they  mought  hear  me  and  dart 
into  the  fountains.  Bimeby  one  of  'em,  that  was 
scufflin'  for  life  to  keep  two  more  of  'em  from  given 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  20/ 

her  a  duckin',  happened  to  look  up.  The  next  minit 
thar  was  a  general  squeelin'  and  grabbin'  up  of  sun- 
bonnets,  and  away  they  went  up  tother  flight  of 
steps.  I  did  n't  want  'em  to  think  I  'd  been  watch- 
in'  'em,  so  I  went  rite  down  to  the  spring,  like  I  had 
jest  cum  for  a  drink  of  water.  Ther  was  three  fount- 
ains all  in  a  row,  and  on  each  side  of  the  fountains 
was  two  iron  ladles  hangin'  chained  to  the  wall.  I 
tuck  up  the  one  on  the  right,  and  was  holdin'  it 
under  the  spout  on  that  side,  when  I  heard  the  galls 
gigglin'  and  laughin'  up  on  the  steps,  whar  they  was 
rangin'  ther  dresses.  I  could  n't  help  but  look 
round,  when  I  saw  one  of  the  prettyest  pair  of  spark- 
lin'  eyes  lookin'  over  the  wall  at  me  that  I  have 
seed  sense  I  left  home.  "  The  middle  fountain  's  the 
best,  sir,"  ses  one  of  the  sweetest  voices  in  the  world. 
I  did  n't  wait  to  think,  but  jest  cause  she  sed  so  I 
jerked  the  ladel  v/hat  was  already  runnin'  over,  to- 
wards the  middle  spout,  when  kerslosh  went  the 
water  all  over  my  feet,  and  the  ladel  went  rattle- 
teklink  agin  the  walls  whar  it  was  chained.  Sich 
another  squall  as  they  did  give  I  never  heard  before, 
and  away  they  all  scampered,  laughin'  fit  to  die  at 
me.  The  fact  was  the  chain  was  n't  long  enuff  to 
reach  to  the  middle  fountain  nohow,  even  if  the 
water  was  any  better,  which  I  ought  to  know'd  was 
all  gammon. 

From  the  City  Springs  I  went  to  the  Washington 
monument,  what  stands  at  the  hed  of  Charles  Street. 
This  is  another  butiful  structure,  which,  while  it 
commemorates  the  fame  of  the  greatest  man  what 
ever  lived  on  the  face  of  the  yeath,  reflects  honor  on 
the  patriotism  and  liberality  of  Baltimoreans.  At 
the  dore  ther  was  a  old  gentleman,  who  ax'd  me  if  I 


208  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

wanted  to  go  up  on  the  monument.  I  told  him  I  'd 
like  to  very  well,  if  ther  was  no  danger.  He  sed 
ther  was  n't  the  least  in  the  world  ;  so,  after  payin' 
him  a  seven-pence  and  writin'  my  name  in  a  big 
book,  he  gin  me  a  lamp,  and  I  started  up  the  steps, 
what  jest  kep  runnin'  round  and  round  like  a  screw- 
auger.  Up,  up  I  went,  and  kep  a  gwine  til  I  thought 
my  legs  would  drap  off  me.  Evry  now  and  then  I 
stopped  and  tuck  a  blow,  and  then  pushed  on  agin, 
til  bimeby  I  got  to  the  top,  whar  ther  is  a  dore  to 
go  out  on  the  outside. 

From  that  place  I  could  see  all  over  the  city,  and 
for  miles  round  the  country ;  and,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  could  n't  hardly  blieve  my  own  eyes,  when 
I  saw  so  many  houses.  The  ground  seemed  to  be 
covered  with  bricks  for  miles  ;  and  every  here  and 
thar  some  tall  steeple  or  lofty  dome  shot  up  from 
the  dark  mass  of  houses  below.  Streets  was  run- 
nin' in  every  direction,  and  carriages  and  hoses  and 
peeple  was  all  movin'  about  in  'em,  like  so  many 
ants  on  a  ant-hill.  Away  off  to  the  southeast  I  could 
see  the  dome  of  the  Exchange  Hotel,  and  a  little 
further  was  the  blue  arms  of  the  Patapsco,  covered 
with  white  sails,  gwine  in  and  out  of  the  harbor ; 
while  the  naked  masts  of  the  vessels  at  the  wharves 
and  in  the  basin  looked  like  a  corn-field  jest  after 
fodder-pullin'  time.  I  could  see  "  the  star-spangled 
banner"  on  the  walls  of  old  Fort  Mackhenry,  still 
wavin'  "  over  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of 
the  brave,"  as  proudly  as  it  did  on  that  glorious  night 
when 

"  The  rocket's  red  glare,  and  bums  bustin'  in  air, 
Gave  proof  thrugh  the  night  that  our  flag  was  still  thar," 

and  I  could  n't  keep  from  singin',  *'  O,  long  may  it 
wave  !  "  etc. 


MAJOR   JONES'S    TRAVELS.  209 

By  the  time  I  got  down  from  the  monument  it 
was  two  o'clock,  and  I  begun  to  have  a  pretty  gocd 
appetite  agin.  I  made  out  to  git  back  to  the  Ex- 
change, by  enquirin'  the  way  'bout  twenty  times  ; 
and  pretty  soon  after  I  got  thar  that  everlastin'  gong 
rung  agin,  and  we  all  went  in  to  dinner.  I  never 
seed  sich  a  handsum  table  in  all  my  life  before.  It 
was  long  enuff  for  a  fourth  of  July  barbacue,  and  all 
dressed  out  like  a  weddin'-supper.  Evrything  looked 
in  order,  like  a  army  formed  in  line  of  battle.  The 
plattoons  of  ivory-handled  knives,  and  silver  forks, 
and  cut-glass  goblets,  and  wine-glasses,  was  all 
ranged  in  two  long  columns  on  each  side,  with  a 
napkin  standin'  at  each  place  like  a  file-closer, 
crimped  up  as  handsum  and  lookin'  as  white  and 
fresh  as  a  water-lilly.  In  the  middle  was  the  bag- 
gage-train, which  was  made  up  of  a  long  row  of 
bright  covers,  with  elegant  silver  casters  and  tu- 
reens, large  glass  vases  full  of  sallary,  and  lots  of 
other  dishes.  I  felt  jest  like  I  was  gwine  into  bat- 
tle ;  and  whether  Mr.  Dorsey,  like  Lord  Nelson, 
expected  every  man  to  do  his  duty  or  not,  I  was  ter- 
mined  to  do  mine.  Well,  the  table  was  soon  sur- 
rounded, and  then  the  attack  commenced.  It  was  a 
terrible  carnage.  The  knives  and  forks  rattled  like 
small  arms,  the  corks  popped  like  artillery,  and  the 
shampane  flew  like  blood  at  evry  discharge.  Gen- 
eral Jennings  manoovered  his  troops  fust  rate,  car- 
ryin'  off  the  killed  and  wounded  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble and  supplyin'  ther  places  with  reinforcements  of 
fresh  dishes.  He  had  a  regular  Wellington  army, 
made  up  of  English,  French,  American,  German, 
Itallian,  and  all  kinds  of  dishes  ;  but,  like  Napoleon 
at  Waterloo,  he   was  doomed  to  come   out   second 

14 


2IO  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHER M  LIFE. 

best,  and  in  a  short  time  his  splendid  army  was  cut 
to  pieces,  routed,  dispersed,  and  demolished,  horse, 
foot,  and  dragoons,  or  rather  roast,  boiled,  and 
stewed. 

You  know  I  've  fit  the  Ingins  in  Florida,  and  can 
stand  my  hand  as  well  as  the  next  man  in  a  bush 
fight,  but  I  never  was  in  jest  sich  a  engagement  be- 
fore, and  I  made  rather  a  bad  job  of  it  in  the  begin- 
nin'.  I  had  n't  more  'n  swallered  my  soup  when  here 
cums  a  nigger  pokein'  a  piece  of  paper  at  me,  which 
he  sed  was  a  bill.  Thinks  I,  they  're  in  a  monstrous 
hurry  'bout  the  money,  so  I  told  him  I  had  n't  time 
to  look  it  over  then.  The  feller  looked  and  grinned 
like  he  did  n't  mean  no  offence,  and  ax'd  me  what 
I  'd  be  helped  to.  Well,  I  know'd  they  did  n't  have 
no  bacon  and  collards,  so  I  told  him  to  bring  me  a 
piece  of  roast  beef.  By  the  time  I  got  fairly  gwine 
on  my  beef,  Mr.  Dorsey  cum  in  and  tuck  a  seat  at 
the  eend  of  the  table  not  far  from  me,  and  ax'd  me 
how  I  was  pleased  with  Baltimore.  I  told  him  very 
well,-  and  was  passin'  a  word  or  two  with  him,  when 
the  fust  thing  I  know'd  my  plate  was  gone,  and 
when  I  turned  round  to  look  for  it  the  nigger  poked 
the  bill  at  me  agin.  I  begun  to  think  that  was  car- 
ryin'  the  joke  a  leetle  too  fur,  and  ses  I,  — 

''  Look  here,  buck  ;  I  told  you  once  I  had  n't  no 
time  to  tend  to  that  now,  and  I  'd  like  to  know  what 
in  the  devil's  name  you  tuck  my  plate  away  for ! " 

"  What  '11  you  be  helped  to  } "  ses  he,  like  he 
did  n't  understand  me. 

*'  I  ax'd  for  sum  beef,"  ses  I,  "  but  " —  and  be- 
fore I  could  2:it  it  out  he  was  off,  and  in  a  minit  he 
brung  me  another  plate  of  roast  beef. 

Well,  by  the  time  I  got  it  salted  to  my  likin',  and 


"  Sum  more  beef,"  ses  I.     See  page  211. 


MAJOR  JONES'S    TRAVELS.  211 

while  I  was  takin'  a  drink  of  water,  away  it  went 
agin.  I  jest  made  up  my  mind  I  would  n't  stand  no 
such  nonsense  any  longer,  so  I  waited  til  he  brung 
me  a  clean  plate  agin,  and  ax'd  me  what  I  wanted. 

"Sum  more  beef,"  ses  I, 

I  kep  my  eyes  about  me  this  time,  and  shore  enuff, 
the  moment  I  turned  to  nod  to  sum  gentlemen  what 
Mr.  Dorsey  introduced  me  to,  one  of  the  niggers 
made  a  grab  at  my  plate.  But  I  was  too  quick  for 
him  that  time. 

•'  Stop  !  "  ses  I. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  ses  he  ;  *'  I  thought  you  wanted 
another  plate." 

'*  I  've  had  enuff  plates  for  three  or  four  men 
already,"  ses  I  ;  "  and  now  I  want  sunt  dinner." 

*'  Very  well,  sir,"  ses  he  ;   *'  what  '11  you  have  t " 

"  What 's  your  name  .''  "  ses  I. 

"  Hansum,  sir,"  ses  he. 

Thinks  I,  you  was  n't  named  for  yer  good  looks, 
then,  that 's  certain  ;  but  I  never  let  on. 

*'  Well,  Hansum,"  ses  I,  "  I  want  you  to  jest  keep 
a  eye  on  my  plate,  and  not  let  anybody  grab  it  off 
til  I  'm  done  with  it,  and  then  I  '11  tell  you  what  I 
want  next." 

Just  then  Mr.  Dorsey  called  him  to  him  and  sed 
sumthing  in  his  ear,  and  here  he  cum  with  Mr.  Dor- 
sey's  compliments  and  a  bottle  of  shampane,  and 
€lled  one  of  my  glasses,  and  then  tuck  his  stand  so 
he  could  watch  my  plate,  grinnin'  all  the  time  like 
he  'd  found  a  mare's  nest  or  sumthing. 

The  plan  worked  fust  rate,  and  after  that  I  got  a 
fair  showin'  at  the  beef.  Then  I  ax'd  Hansum  what 
else  ther  was,  and  he  brung  me  the  bill  agin,  and 
told  me  I  'd  find  it  on  thar.     Shore  enuff,  it  was  a 


212  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

bill  of  things  to  eat,  insted  of  a  bill  of  expenses. 
Well,  I  looked  it  over,  but  I  could  n't  tell  the  rari 
de  poiilets  a  la  Iiidieiine,  or  the  pigeons  en  compote, 
or  the  angiielles  a  la  Tai'tare  from  anything  else,  til 
I  tasted  'em,  and  then  I  did  n't  hardly  know  the 
chickens  from  the  eels,  they  was  cooked  so  curi- 
ous. Ther  was  plenty  that  I  did  know,  though,  to 
make  out  a  fust  rate  dinner,  and  long  before  they 
brung  in  the  custards,  and  jellies,  and  pies,  my  ap- 
petite was  gone.  I  was  jest  gwine  to  leave  the 
table,  when  Mr.  Dorsey  ax'd  me  if  I  liked  Charlotte 
Roose.  I  told  him  I  had  n't  the  pleasure  of  her  ac- 
quaintance. *'  Well,  Majer,"  ses  he,  "  you  better 
try  a  little  ;"  and  with  that  he  sent  me  a  plate  with 
sumthing  on*  it  made  out  of  pound-cake  and  ice 
creafn  'thout  bein'  froze,  which  was  a  little  the  best 
thing  I  ever  eat  in  my  life. 

Two  or  three  more  sich  dinners  as  this  would  lay 
me  up,  so  I  could  n't  git  away  from  the  Exchange 
in  a  month.     No  more  from 

Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 


IV. 


FARTHER   ADVENTURES    IN    BALTIMORE. 


No.  27,  Exchange  Hotel, 

Baltimore,  May  22,  1845. 


I  've  always  found  that  it  was  the  best  way  to 
make  ''  good  digestion  wait  on  appetite,  and  helth 
on  both,"  as  Mr.  McBeth  ses,  to  stir  about  a  little 
after  eatin'  a  harty  bate.  So  after  eatin'  the  excel- 
lent dinner  at  the  Exchange,  what  I  told  you  about 


MAJOR   JONES'S    TRAVELS.  21 3 

in  my  last  letter,  I  tuck  another  turn  round  through 
the  city.  By  this  time  I  begun  to  git  the  hang  of 
the  place  a  little  better,  and  was  n't  so  fraid  of  get- 
tin'  lost.  I  turned  up  South  Street,  as  they  call  it, 
whar  ther  's  more  tailors  than  would  make  a  dozen 
common  men,  —  even  if  the  old  maxim  is  true,  which 
I  never  did  blieve,  —  and  went  up  Baltimore  Street 
agin,  whar  the  fine  stores  is  kep,  and  whar  the  galls 
all  go  a  shoppin'  and  perminadin'  in  the  afternoons 
to  show  ther  new  dresses. 

Well,  sir,  I  can  tell  you  what 's  a  positiv  fact,  it 
would  take  a  French  dancin'  master  to  git  along  in 
Baltimore  Street  without  runnin'  agin  sumbody  ;  and 
even  he  could  n't  shassay  his  way  round  through  the 
troops  of  galls  without  runnin'  a  fowl  of  one  now 
and  then,  or  rakin'  his  shins  all  to  pieces  on  the  pine 
boxes  wdiat  is  piled  all  along  the  sidewalk,  after  you 
git  above  Charles  Street.  I  done  the  very  best 
dodgin'  I  could,  but  every  now  and  then  I  run  spang 
agin  sumbody,  and  then,  while  I  was  bowin'  and 
scrapin'  a  apology  to  'em,  ten  to  one  if  I  did  n't 
knock  sum  baby  over  in  the  gutter  what  was  cumin' 
along  with  its  ma,  behind  me,  or  git  my  cote-tail  fast 
in  among  the  crates  and  boxes  so  tite  that  I  run  a 
monstrous  risk  of  losin'  it  bowdaciously.  But  I 
was  n't  the  only  one  what  got  hung  :  two  or  three 
galls  got  ther  dresses  hitched  up,  on  the  nails  and 
hoops,  so  they  blushed  as  red  as  fire,  and  a  old  gen- 
tleman with  a  broad-brimmed  hat,  and  his  stockins 
over  his  trowses,  tumbled  over  a  wheel-barrow  rite 
into  a  pile  of  boxes,  and  tore  his  clothes  dredful. 
It  tuck  the  old  man  sum  time  to  gether  himself  up, 
and  git  out  of  the  jam  he  was  in.  When  he  got  out 
he  never  cussed  a  word,  but  he  fetched  a  groan  that 


214  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

sounded  like  it  cum  from  way  down  below  his  waist- 
bands, and  went  on. 

I  thought,  at  fust,  that  the  store-keepers  must  be 
doin'  a  terrible  sight  of  bisness,  to  be  shure,  to 
be  sendin'  off  and  receivin'  so  much  goods,  but  I 
knocked  on  sum  of  the  boxes  with  my  cane,  and 
they  sounded  as  holler  as  a  old  empty  bee-gum.  I 
spose  the  city  gits  a  fust  rate  rent  for  the  pavement, 
but  if  the  merchants  was  to  keep  ther  empty  boxes 
in  the  sellers,  it  would  be  a  great  deal  more  con- 
venient for  the  people  to  pass  along,  and  I  should 
think  it  would  n't  hurt  ther  contents  a  bit.  The 
fact  is  a  body  can't  git  into  the  stpres  to  buy  noth- 
ing, for  the  piles  of  boxes  round  the  doors.  I  wanted 
a  piece  of  tobacker  myself,  but  I  could  n't  see  no 
store  what  I  could  git  into  without  runnin'  the  risk 
of  breakin'  my  neck  or  tearin'  my  trowses. 

You  may  suppose  I  seed  a  heap  of  butiful  wim- 
min  in  Baltimore  Street.  Well,  so  I  did  ;  but,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  seed  some  bomxinable  ugly  ones 
too.  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Thompson,  wimmin  's  wim- 
min,  all  over  the  world ;  and  the  old  sayin'  that 
"  fine  feathers  makes  fine  birds  "  is  jest  as  true  here 
as  it  is  in  Georgia.  I  'm  a  married  man,  you  know, 
and  can  speak  my  sentiments  about  the  galls  'thout 
givin'  offence  to  nobody  ;  or,  at  least,  'thout  bein' 
spected  of  selfish  motives.  Well,  then,  I  say  Balti- 
more need  n't  be  ashamed  of  her  wimmin,  so  far 
as  buty  's  concerned.  "  Handsum  is  as  handsum 
does  "  is  a  old  and  true  sayin'  :  and  if  the  Baltimore 
galls  is  only  as  amiable  and  good  as  they  is  butiful, 
they  '11  do  fust  rate,  take  'em  on  a  average.  But, 
like  every  other  place,  ther  's  some  here  that  needs 
a  monstrous  sight  of  goodness  to  make  up  for  ther 
uglmsss. 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS.  21$ 

I  know  it  used  to  be  a  common  opinion  that  the 
Baltimore  wimmin  was  the  prettyest  in  the  world  ; 
and  I  've  heard  people  what  had  been  here  before 
advise  the  young  merchants  what  was  gwine  to  New 
York  to  buy  goods  that  if  they  did  n't  want  to  lose 
ther  harts  they  'd  better  go  round  this  city.  But 
that  was  a  good  many  years  ago,  and  you  know  time 
alters  circumstances  as  well  as  circumstances  alters 
cases,  and  this  is  the  way  I  account  for  the  change. 
Then  the  Baltimore  galls  was  most  all  natives,  and 
come  from  the  same  stock,  and  they  was  so  univer- 
sally handsum  that  nobody  could  help  but  notice  it. 
But  the  city  is  growed  a  monstrous  sight  since  them 
days  ;  a  great  many  people  from  all  parts  of  the  world 
have  come  into  it.;  and  what  was  the  buty  of  Balti- 
more has  been  mixed  up  with  and  distributed  about 
among  sich  a  heap  of  ugliness  that  a  great  deal  of 
it  is  spilt  altogether  ;  and  what  does  remain  pure 
and  unadulterated  ain't  more  'n  half  so  conspicuous 
now  as  it  used  to  be.  But  notwithstandin',  ther 's 
some  monstrous  handsum  wimmin  in  Baltimore, 
some  butiful  creaters,  with  dark  hazel  eyes,  bright 
auburn  ringlets,  Grecian  noses,  coral  lips,  and  plump, 
graceful  forms,  that  is  enough  to  melt  the  ice  from 
round  the  heart  of  a  old  bachellor  who  had  been 
cold  as  a  lizzard  for  twenty  years  ;  and  it 's  miy  posi- 
tiv  opinion  that  a  man  what  could  n't  find  a  gall 
handsum  enuff  in  this  city  would  stand  a  monstrous 
poor  chance  of  gittin'  suited  short  of  gwine  to  Geor- 
gia, where  the  galls,  you  know,  take  ther  temper 
ments  from  the  warm  Southern  skies,  ther  buty 
from  the  wild  flowers  that  grow  in  our  fields,  and 
ther  voices  from  the  birds  that  sing  in  our  groves. 

After  gwine  up  as  far  as  Youtaw  Street,  I  crossed 


2l6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

over  and  cum  down  on  tother  side  of  the  street, 
lookin'  along  at  one  thing  and  another  til  I  got  most 
down  to  Charles  Street.  By  this  time  I  begun  to  be 
monstrous  dry,  and  as  I  'd  heard  tell  a  good  deal 
about  the  sody  water  what  they  have  in  the  big 
cities,  I  thought  I  'd  try  a  little  at  the  fust  place 
whar  they  sold  it.  Well,  the  fust  docter's  shop  I 
cum  to  had  a  sody  water  sign  up,  and  in  I  went  to 
git  sum. 

Ses  I,  "  I  want  a  drink  of  yer  sody  water." 

"  What  kind  of  syrup  will  you  have  t "  ses  he, 
puttin'  his  hand  on  a  bottle  of  molasses. 

"  I  don't  want  no  syrup,"  ses  I.  *'  I  want  sody 
water." 

"  Ah,"  ses  he,  "  you  want  extra  sody." 

And  with  that  he  tuck  a  glass  and  put  sum  white 
stuff  in  it,  and  then  held  it  under  the  spout  til  it 
was  full,  and  handed  it  to  me. 

I  put  it  to  my  hed  and  pulled  away  at  it,  but  I 
never  got  sich  a  everlastin'  dose  before  in  all  my 
life.  I  got  three  or  four  swallers  down  before  I  be- 
gun to  taste  the  dratted  stuff,  and  you  may  depend 
it  liked  to  killed  me  right  ded  in  my  tracks.  It  tuck 
the  breth  clean  out  of  me,  and  when  I  cum  to  my- 
self my  tongue  felt  like  it  was  full  of  needles,  and 
my  stummick  like  I  'd  swallered  a  pint  of  frozen 
soapsuds,  and  the  tears  was  runnin'  out  of  my  eyes 
in  a  stream. 

I  drapped  the  glass  and  spurted  the  rest  out  of 
my  mouth  quicker  'n  lightnin',  but  before  I  could  git 
breth  to  speak  to  the  chap  what  was  standin'  behind 
the  counter,  starein'  at  me  with  all  his  might,  he  ax'd 
me  if  I  was  n't  well. 

**Well!   thunder  and  lightnin,"    ses  I,  "do  you 


MAJOR   JONES'S    TRAVELS.  21/ 

want  to  pisen  me  to  deth,  and  then  ax  me  if  I  'm 
well  ?  " 

"  Pisen  !  "  ses  he. 

"  Yes,"  ses  I,  "  pisen  !  I  ax'd  you  for  sum  sody 
water,  and  you  gin  me  a  dose  bad  enough  to  kill  a 
hoss." 

"  I  gin  you  nothin'  but  plain  sody,"  ses  he. 

"Well,"  ses  I,  "if  that's  what  you  call  sody 
water,  I  '11  be  dadfetch'd  if  I  '11  try  any  more  of  it. 
Why,  it 's  worse  nor  Ingin  turnip  juice  stew'd  down 
six  gallons  into  a  pint,  cooled  off  in  a  snow-bank, 
and  mixed  with  a  harrycane." 

Jest  then  some  bilin'  hot  steam  come  up  into  my 
throte,  that  liked  to  blow'd  my  nose  rite  out  by  the 
roots. 

Ses  he, ''  May  be  you  ain't  used  to  drinkin'  it  with- 
out syrup." 

**  No,"  ses  I,  "  and  what  's  more,  I  never  will 
be." 

**  It 's  much  better  with  sassypariller,  or  goose- 
berry syrup,"  ses  he.  "  Will  you  try  some  with 
syrup  } " 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  ses  I,  and  I  paid  him  a  thrip 
for  the  dose  I  had,  and  put  out. 

I  wanted  some  tobacker  monstrous  bad  :  so  I 
stepped  into  a  store  and  ax'd  for  sum.  The  man 
said  he  did  n't  sell  nothin'  but  staples,  but  he  reck- 
oned I  'd  find  some  a  little  further  down,  at  Smith's. 
Well,  I  went  along  lookin'  at  the  signs  til  I  cum  to 
Shaw,  Smith  &  Co.  Thinks  I,  this  must  be  the 
place.  So  in  I  went,  and  ax'd  a  very  good  lookin' 
man  with  whiskers,  what  was  standin'  near  the  door, 
if  he  had  any  good  chewin'  tobacker. 

"  No,  sir,"  ses  he,  "  we  hain't  got  any  more  of  that 


2l8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

article  on  hand  than  we  keep  for  our  own  use  ;  but 
we  would  like  to  sell  you  some  carpets  to-day." 

"  Carpets  ? "  ses  I  ;  and  shore  enuff,  come  to  look, 
ther  was  n't  another  thing  but  carpets  and  oil  cloths 
and  mattins  and  rugs  and  sich  things  in  the  store  ; 
and  I  do  blieve  ther  was  enuff  of  'em  of  all  sorts 
and  figers  to  furnish  all  the  houses  in  Georgia. 

After  a  little  explanation  he  told  me  the  Smith  I 
wanted  was  J.  C.  Smith,  down  opposite  to  the  Mu- 
seum. He  said  I  'd  find  lots  of  tobacker  and  segars 
thar,  and  I  'd  know  the  place  by  a  big  Ingin  stand- 
in'  out  before  the  door.  Shore  enuff,  when  I  went 
thar  I  got  some  fust  rate  segars  and  tobacker,  and 
a  box  to  put  it  in. 

That 's  the  way  they  do  bisness  here.  They  don't 
keep  dry  goods  and  groceries,  calicoes,  homespun, 
rum,  salt,  trace  chains,  and  tobacker  all  together, 
like  they  do  in  Pineville,  but  every  kind  of  goods 
has  a  store  to  itself.  If  you  ever  come  to  Baltimore, 
and  want  some  tobacker  or  segars,  you  must  go  to 
the  stores  what 's  got  little  painted  Ingins  or  nig- 
gers standin'  out  by  the  doors  ;  for  you  mought  jest 
as  well  go  to  a  meetin'  house  to  borrow  a  hand-saw 
as  go  to  any  of  the  stores  here  for  anything  out  of 
ther  line.  I  spose,  like  the  sody  water,  it 's  well 
enuff  to  them  that 's  used  to  it,  but  it 's  monstrous 
ao^orravokin'  to  them  what  ain't. 

As  I  had  n't  been  down  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
city,  I  thought  I  'd  git  into  one  of  the  omminybuses 
and  ride  over  to  Fells'  Pint,  and  see  how  it  looked. 
Well,  it 's  a  good  long  stretch  from  one  eend  of  Bal- 
timore to  the  other,  I  can  teU  you,  and  after  you 
cross  over  Jones'  falls,  what  runs  through  to  the 
river  and  divides  the  old  town  from  the  new  one, 


MAJOR  JONES'S    TRAVELS.  219 

you  're  monstrous  apt  to  think  your  gettin'  into 
another  city,  if  not  in  another  nation.  I  lik'd  to 
put  my  jaws  out  of  jint  tryin'  to  read  sum  of  the 
signs.  Sum  of  'em  was  painted  in  Dutch,  so  I 
could  n't  make  out  the  fust  letter,  and  sum  of  the 
people  looked  so  Dutch  that  you  mought  almost  feel 
it  on  'em  with  a  stick. 

I  noticed  when  anybody  wanted  to  git  out  they 
jest  pulled  a  leather  strap,  and  the  omminybus  cum 
to  a  halt.  So  when  w^e  got  down  to  Fell  Street,  I 
tuck  hold  of  the  strap  and  gin  it  a  jerk  ;  but  the 
bosses  went  on  fast  as  ever,  so  I  jest  laid  my  wait 
on  the  strap  to  stop  'em.  "  Hellow  !  "  ses  the  driver 
outside,  "do  you  want  to  pull  me  in  two  1 "  Cum  to 
find  out,  the  strap  was  hitch'd  to  the  man  insted  of 
the  bosses,  and  I  liked  to  draw'd  him  through  the 
hole  whar  he  tuck  his  money.  He  w^as  mad  as  a 
hornit,  but  when  he  looked  in  and  seed  who  it  was 
he  had  nothin'  more  to  say. 

I  expect  some  parts  of  Fells'  Pint  w^ould  suit  Mr. 
Dickens  fust  rate.  It 's  old  as  the  hills,  and  crooked 
as  a  ram's  horn,  and  a  body  can  hear  jest  as  much 
bad  English  thar  as  he  could  among  the  cockneys  of 
London,  and  can  find  sum  fancy  caracters,  male  and 
female,  that  would  do  honor  to  St.  Gileses,  or  any 
other  romantic  quarter  of  the  British  metropolis. 

After  lookin'  about  a  little  while  at  the  sailors  that 
was  drinkin'  toasts  and  singin'  songs  in  the  taverns, 
I  went  down  on  one  of  the  wharves,  whar  ther  w^as 
a  ship  jest  cum  from  Liverpool.  The  sailors  was 
singin'  "All  together,  oh,  heve  oh  !"  and  pullin'  her 
in  to  the  wharf.  Poor  fellers,  they  had  been  out 
thirty  days,  w^orkin'  hard,  in  all  kinds  of  weather, 
and  now  they  was  cumin'  ashore  to  giv  ther  money 


220  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE 

to  the  sharpers  that  was  lookin'  out  for  'em  like 
sharks  for  a  ded  body.  I  could  n't  help  but  feel 
sorry  for  'em,  when  I  thought  how  in  a  few  days 
they  would  be  without  money  and  without  frends, 
and  would  gladly  go  back  to  the  perils  of  the  ocean, 
to  escape  the  treachery  that  beset  'em  on  shore. 

I  went  and  tuck  a  seat  on  some  logs  what  was 
layin'  on  the  wharf,  and  smoked  a  cigar,  and  looked 
at  the  vessels  sailin'  about  in  the  harbor.  While  I 
was  settin'  thar,  thinkin'  of  ships  and  sailors,  and 
one  thing  and  another,  a  little  feller  come  along  with 
a  baskit  on  his  arm,  and  ax'd  me  if  I  wanted  to  buy 
some  matches.     I  told  him  no,  I  did  n't  want  none. 

"You  better  buy  some,  sir,"  ses  he.  "I  sell  'eqi 
very  cheap." 

The  little  feller  looked  so  poor  and  pittiful  that  I 
could  n't  help  feelin'  a  little  sorry  for  him. 

"  How  much  do  you  ax  for  'em  }  "  ses  I. 

"  Eight  boxes  for  a  levy,"  ses  he. 

They  was  jest  the  same  kind  of  boxes  that  we  git 
two  for  a  thrip  in  Georgia,  and  though  I  did  n't  want 
none,  I  thought  I  'd  buy  some  of  him  jest  to  patron- 
ize him. 

"Well,"  ses  I,  "give  me  two  boxes." 

The  little  feller  handed  me  two  boxes,  and  I  gin 
him  a  sevenpence. 

"  You  may  keep  the  change  for  profit,"  ses  I. 

*' Thank  you,  sir,"  ses  he,  and  his  eyes  brightened 
up  as  he  put  the  money  in  his  pocket. 

"  I  like  to  encourage  honest  enterprize,"  ses  I. 
"  Be  honest,  and  never  lie  or  cheat,  and  you  '11  always 
find  frends,"  ses  I. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  ses  he.  "  I  never  steals  nor  cheats  no- 
body." 


MAJOR  JONES'S    TRAVELS.  221 

"  That 's  right,"  ses  I.     *'  That 's  a  good  boy." 

I  went  on  smokin',  and  in  a  few  minits,  when  I 
thought  he  was  gone,  I  heard  the  Httle  feller  behind 
me  agin. 

"  What .?  "  ses  I. 

"  My  sister  died  last  week,"  ses  he,  "and  we're 
very  poor,  and  my  mammy  's  sick,  and  I  can't  make 
money  enough  to  buy  medicine  for  the  baby  "  — 

"Well,"  ses  I,  "I  don't  want  no  more  matches, 
but  here 's  a  quarter  to  add  to  your  profits  to-day." 

''Thank  you,  sir,"  ses  he,  and  he  went  off  agin, 
thankin'  me  for  the  quarter. 

Poor  little  feller,  thinks  I ;  how  much  better  to 
give  him  that  quarter  of  a  dollar  than  to  smoke  it 
out  in  segars  !  He'll  go  home  to  his  poor  mother, 
happy,  and  if  he  has  felt  any  temptation  to  be  a 
rogue  the  recollection  of  my  kindness  will  give  him 
courage  to  be  honest.  I  had  n't  got  done  thinkin' 
about  him  before  here  he  was  back  agin. 

"  Daddy  died  last  week,"  ses  he,  *'  and  sister  Betsy 
got  her  foot  skalded,  and  we  hain't  had  no  bred  to 
eat  not  for  a  week,  —  ever  sense  daddy  died,  — 
and  "  — 

"  Look  here,"  says  I,  "  you  better  go  before  you 
kill  off  all  your  relations ;  I  begin  to  think  you  're 
a  little  imposter." 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,  daddy  is  ded,"  ses  he,  *'  and  mammy 
and  sister  lives  all  alone,  and  mammy  told  me  to  ax 
you  if  you  would  come  and  see  her,  and  give  her 
some  money." 

I  begun  to  smell  a  rat,  and  ses  I,  "I'll  see  your 
mammy  to  the  mischief  fust  ;  and  if  I  'd  had  the 
same  opinion  of  you  that  I  have  now,  I  'd  never  gin 
you  the  fust  red  cent." 


:?22  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

With  that  the  little  raf]^p^ed  cus  sot  up  a  big  laugh, 
and  put  his  thum  on  his  nose  and  wiggled  his  fingers 
at  me. 

"  Do  you  see  anything  green,"  ses  he,  *'  eh,  hos  ? 
What  do  you  think  of  me  now,  eh  ?  Would  you 
like  to  buy  another  levy's  worth  of  matches  ?  You 
see,"  ses  he,  "  I  'm  one  of  the  b'hoys  !  —  a  out-and- 
out    Fell's    Pinter,  by !  "  and    then    he    ripped 

out  a  oath  that  made  the  hair  stand  on  my  hed,  and 
away  he  went. 

I  felt  like  I  was  completely  tuck  in,  and  I  never 
sed  another  word.  But  I  made  up  my  mind  when 
I  gin  another  quarter  away  to  encourage  honesty, 
it  would  be  to  a  different  sort  of  candidate  ;  and, 
throwing  the  stump  of  my  segar  into  the  water,  I 
left  the  place,  and  tuck  the  fust  omminybus  for  the 
Exchange.  I  'm  done  with  Baltimore,  and  shall 
start  to-morrow  for  the  city  of  Brotherly  Love.  So 
no  more  at  present  from 

Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 


V. 

THE    QUAKER    CITY. 

FiLLADELFY,  May  23,  1845. 

You  may  be  sure  I  was  tired  when  I  got  back  to 
the  Exchange,  after  my  visit  to  Fell's  Pint,  last  night. 
I  could  n't  help  but  think  how  I  had  been  tuck  in 
by  that  bominable  little  match  seller,  and  I  felt  rite 
mad  at  myself  for  bein'  sich  a  fool. 

I  had  a  fust  rate  appetite  for  my  supper,  and  by 
the  politeness  of  Mr.  Dorsey  —  who,  tween  you  and 
me,  is  one  of  the  cleverest  fellers  I  've    met  with 


MAJOR  JONES'S  TRAVELS.  223 

sense  I  left  Georgia  —  I  got  a  invitation  to  take  tea 
in  the  lady's  supper  room.  You  know  when  the  grand 
caraven  was  in  Pineville,  last  year,  the  manager 
charged  a  thrip  extra  for  admittin'  people  when  they 
was  feedin'  the  annimals.  Well,  it  was  worth  the 
money  ;  and  if  Mr.  Dorsey  had  charged  me  double 
price  for  eatin'  at  the  lady's  ordinary,  as  they  call  it, 
I  would  n't  grumbled  a  bit.  Ther  w^as  a  heap  of 
ladys  at  the  table,  rangin'  from  little  school  galls  up 
to  old  grandmothers,  all  dressed  out  as  fine  as  a 
fiddle,  and  lookin'  as  pleasin'  and  happy  as  the 
Georgia  galls  do  at  a  Fourth  of  July  barbycue  ;  and 
sich  a  gabblin'  as  they  did  keep  I  never  heard  be- 
fore. Jest  over  opposite  to  me  was  a  bridle  party 
from  Virginny,  what  had  jest  been  gettin'  married, 
and  had  come  to  Baltimore  to  see  ther  honey-moon. 
It  was  really  a  interestin'  party,  and  it  almost  tuck 
my  appetite  from  me  to  look  at  'em,  they  was  so 
happy  and  so  lovin'.  They  was  only  married  'bout 
a  week,  and  of  course  the  world  was  all  moonshine 
and  hummin'-birds  and  roses  to  them.  They  felt 
like  ther  was  no  other  inhabitants  in  creation,  and 
that  all  that  was  beautiful  and  bright  and  good  on 
earth  was  made  for  their  enjoyment  alone.  They 
had  ther  bridesmaid  and  groomsman  along,  and  two 
or  three  more  young  ladys  and  gentlemen.  The 
galls  was  all  monstrous  handsum,  but  the  bride  was 
the  handsumest  of  'em  all.  Pore  gall,  she  looked 
sort  o'  pale,  and  could  n't  eat  much  supper  for 
lookin'  at  her  husband  ;  and  he  drunk  his  tea  'thout 
any  sweetenin'  in  it,  just  cause  she  looked  in  his 
cup  with  her  butiful  soft  eyes. 

They  put  me   in   mind   of  the  time  when   I  was 
married,  and  of  Mary,  and  by  the  time  supper  was 


224  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

over  I  was  as  homesick  as  the  mischief.  Segars  is 
good  for  the  blues  sometimes,  and  I  smoked  til  my 
hed  whirled  round  so  I  could  n't  hardly  hold  my  hat 
on,  but  it  did  n't  do  me  not  the  least  bit  of  good;  so 
I  went  to  my  room,  and  tried  to  find  in  the  arms  of 
Morfyus  a  substitute  for  the  arms  of  her  who  is  a  great 
deal  dearer  to  me  than  anything  else  in  this  world. 

I  did  n't  git  much  time  to  sleep  for  dreamin'  all 
night,  and  when  I  waked  up  in  the  mornin'  Hansum 
sed  the  second  gong  was  rung,  and  if  I  was  gwine 
to  Filladelfy  in  the  cars  I  better  git  up  rite  off. 
Well,  out  I  got,  and  dressed,  and  went  down  to 
breckfust.  After  eatin'  a  good  breckfust  I  ax'd  for 
my  bill,  and  Hansum  brung  down  my  baggage. 
Every  time  I  looked  at  Hansum  he  was  grinnin', 
but  as  soon  as  he  seed  me  lookin'  at  him  he 
straitened  up  his  face  and  sort  o'  pretended  to 
scratch  his  hed.  I  couldn't  think  what  was  the 
matter  with  the  feller ;  and  when  I  looked  at  him 
pretty  hard  he  grinned,  as  much  as  to  say  it  was 
the  strangest  thing  in  the  world  to  him  why  I 
could  n't  understand  his  meanin*.  Bimeby,  when  I 
was  puttin'  my  change  in  my  purse,  I  spected  what 
was  the  matter.  "  That 's  it,  ain't  it,  Hansum  ?  "  ses 
I,  handin'  him  a  quarter.  ''  Yes,  sir ;  thank  you,  sir," 
ses  he,  and  he  grinned  more  'n  ever,  and  if  you  ever 
seed  a  ugly  nigger  he  was  one. 

When  I  was  reddy  to  start,  I  went  to  the  door  to 
see  if  they  had  put  my  trunks  on  the  waggon  to 
take  them  to  the  cars,  and  rite  in  the  middle  of  the 
hall  I  met  a  chap  standin  with  a  big  painted  tin 
label  on  his  buzzum,  what  had  on  it  "  Boot  Black," 
\\\  big  yaller  letters.  Thar  he  stood  like  a  sentinel 
on  quarter  gard,  as  stiff  as  a  post,  and  as  I  walked 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  225 

by  him  he  kept  turnin*  round,  so  his  sign  was  all  the 
time  in  view.  When  I  cum  back  thar  he  stood  in 
the  same  place,  with  his  hands  down  by  his  side, 
and  his  hed  up,  lookin'  me  rite  in  the  face.  Thinks 
I,  he  must  be  a  deaf  and  dum  man  what  blacks  the 
boots  of  the  establishment,  and  he  wants  me  to  giv 
him  sum  change.  Well,  I  did  n't  know  nothin'  about 
the  deaf  and  dum  language,  and  as  I  did  n't  have  no 
slate  and  pencil  handy  I  begun  to  make  signs  to 
him,  by  pintin'  at  my  boots,  and  then  at  him,  and 
then  doin'  my  hands  like  I  was  brushin'  a  boot. 
He  nodded  his  hed.  Then  I  tuck  out  my  purse  and 
made  a  motion  to  him,  as  much  as  to  say,  Do  you 
want  sum  money  .'*  and  he  nodded  his  hed  agin,  twice. 
Poor  feller,  thinks  I,  he  can't  dun  nobody,  and  must 
lose  many  a  debt  whar  people  's  always  gwine  away 
in  a  hurry  so.  So  I  handed  him  a  half  a  dollar. 
When  it  fell  in  his  hand  he  opened  his  eyes  and 
started  like  he  was  tuck  by  surprise.  "  Thank  ye, 
sir,"  ses  he,  scrapiu'  his  foot  and  bowin'  his  hed 
like  a  snappin'  turtle.     "Thank  ye,  sir,"  ses  he. 

You  may  depend  that  sot  me  back  like  the  mis- 
chief. 

"  If  you  ain't  dum,"  ses  I,  "  why  did  n't  you  speak 
before  t  "  ses  I. 

"  I  had  nothin'  to  spake  of,"  ses  he. 

"■  Could  n't  you  sed  you  was  the  boot-blacker  1 " 
ses  I. 

"I'd  tould  ye  that,"  ses  he,  "but  I  thought  you 
could  rade  ;  '  and  where  's  the  use  of  keepin'  a  dog 
and  doin'  one's  own  barkin'  V  "  ses  he. 

Tuck  in  agin,  thinks  I.  If  I  had  n't  thought  he 
vas  a  dum  man  I  would  n't  gin  him  but  a  seven- 
pence,  nohow. 


226  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

It  was  nine  o'clock,  and  I  was  seated  in  the  cars 
on  my  way  to  Filladelfy.  The  road  runs  rite  along 
in  the  edge  of  the  city,  near  the  wharves,  and  gives 
a  body  a  pretty  good  idee  of  the  heavy  bisness  part 
of  Baltimore  from,  the  basin  clear  out  to  Fell's  Pint, 
in  Old  Town. 

After  we  got  out  of  the  city  they  took  out  the 
horses  and  hitched  in  the  old  steam  Belzebub,  and 
away  we  went,  rattle-te-klink,  over  embankments 
and  through  cuts,  across  fields  and  over  bridges, 
until  we  was  soon  out  of  site  of  Baltimore.  The 
mornin'  was  dark  and  cloudy,  and  the  ground  was 
wet ;  so  if  we  lost  anything  by  not  havin'  brighter 
skies  and  a  better  view  of  the  scenery,  we  made  up 
for  it  by  not  havin'  no  dust  to  choke  us  to  deth. 
This  is  a  butiful  railroad,  and  the  cars  is  as  com- 
fortable as  a  rockin'  chair  with  arms  to  it.  You 
hain't  got  to  be  bumpin'  and  crowdin'  up  together 
in  the  seats,  like  you  do  on  some  roads,  for  every 
man  has  a  comfortable  seat  to  himself  ;  and  another 
thing  that  I  liked  very  much  was  that  the  sparks 
ain't  always  dartin'  about  your  face,  and  lightin' 
down  when  you  ain't  spectin'  nothin',  and  burnin' 
your  clothes  off  of  you. 

I  begin  to  find  it  a  great  deal  colder  here  than  it 
was  in  Georgia  when  I  left  home.  We  had  summer 
in  Pineville  more  'n  a  month  ago,  and  everybody 
had  gardin  vegetables  on  their  tables,  and  my  corn 
was  more  'n  knee  high  long  before  I  left.  Here 
ther  ain't  hardly  an  English  pea  to  be  seen,  and  the 
cornfield  malitia  is  still  on  duty  to  skeer  the  birds 
from  pullin'  up  the  sprouts.  But  in  that  line  of  bis- 
ness they  can  beat  us  all  holler,  for  I  have  seed  two 
or  three  skeercrows  standin'  about  in  the  cornfields 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS.  227 

here  that  would  n't  only  skeer  all  the  birds  in  Geor- 
gia to  deth,  but  they  would  n't  leave  a  nigger  on  the 
plantation  in  twenty-four  hours  after  they  wer  put 
in  the  field.  They  looked  more  like  the  old  boy  in 
regimentals  than  anything  I  can  think  of. 

The  road  passes  through  a  rather  thinly  popilated 
country  most  of  the  distance,  til  it  gits  to  Haver- 
de-grass,  whar  it  crosses  the  Susquehanny  River. 
After  that  it  goes  through  a  country  that  keeps 
gettin'  better  and  better  til  we  git  to  Wilmington, 
Delaware,  which  is  a  butiful  town  on  the  Brandy- 
wine  River,  'bout  thirty  miles  from  Filladelfy.  Be- 
tween Baltimore  and  the  Susquehanny  we  crossed 
over  several  rivers,  on  bridges,  some  of  'em  more  'n 
a  mile  long,  but  ther  ain't  no  changin',  only  at  the 
Susquehanny,  which  we  crossed  in  a  butiful  steam- 
boat to  the  cars  on  the  other  side.  From  Wilming- 
ton all  the  way  to  Filladelfy,  we  wer  in  site  of  the 
broad  Delaware  on  our  right,  on  the  banks  of  which 
and  as  far  as  we  could  see  on  the  left  is  one  of  the 
handsumest  agricultural  districts  in  the  country,  the 
houses  lookin'  like  palaces,  and  the  farms  like  gar- 
dens. 

When  the  cars  got  to  the  depo,  they  was  sur- 
rounded as  usual  by  a  regiment  of  whips.  But  the 
Filladelfy  hackmen  behaved  themselves  pretty  well 
for  men  in  ther  line  of  bisness.  Ther  was  n't  more  'n 
twenty  of  'em  at  me  at  one  time,  and  none  of  'em 
did  n't  'tempt  to  take  my  baggage  from  me  whether 
I  would  let  'em  have  it  or  not.  Soon  as  I  got  so 
that  I  knowed  which  eend  I  was  standin'  on,  I  took 
a  hack  and  druv  to  the  United  States  Hotel  in 
Chestnut  Street,  rite  opposite  the  old  raw  head  and 
bloody  bones,  the  United  States  Bank. 


228  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

After  dinner  I  tuck  a  walk  up  Chestnut  Street  to 
the  old  State  House,  whar  the  Continental  Congress 
made  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  The  old 
bildin'  stands  whar  it  did,  and  the  doorsills  is  thar, 
upon  which  the  feet  of  our  revolutionary  fathers 
once  rested  ;  but  whar  are  they  now  ?  Of  all  the 
brave  hearts  that  throbbed  in  them  old  halls  on  the 
4th  of  July,  1776,  not  one  now  is  warmed  by  the 
pulse  of  life  !  One  by  one  they  have  sunk  down 
into  ther  graves,  leavin'  a  grateful  posterity  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  civil  and  religious  blessins  for 
which  they  pledged  ther  "lives,  ther  fortius,  and 
ther  sacred  honors."  I  felt  like  I  was  walkin'  on 
consecrated  ground,  and  I  could  n't  help  but  think 
that  if  some  of  our  members  of  Congress  was  to 
pay  a  occasional  pilgrimage  to  this  Mecky  of  our 
political  faith,  and  dwell  but  for  a  feV  hours  on  the 
example  of  the  worthy  men  who  once  waked  the 
echoes  of  these  halls  with  ther  patriotic  eloquence, 
they  would  be  apt  to  go  back  wiser  and  better  poli- 
ticians than  they  was  when  they  cum  ;  and  that  we 
would  have  less  sound  and  more  sense,  less  for  Bun- 
cum  and  more  for  the  country,  in  ther  speeches  in 
our  Capitol  at  Washington. 

After  lookin'  about  the  old  hall,  I  went  up  stairs 
into  the  steeple,  whar  the  bell  still  hangs  what  was 
cast  by  order  of  Congress,  to  proclaim  liberty  to  the 
world.  It  is  cracked  and  ruined,  and  like  the  walls 
in  which  it  hangs,  the  monuments  and  statues  and 
paintins,  and  every  other  relic  of  them  days,  it  re- 
mains a  silent  memento  of  the  past,  and  as  such  it 
should  be  preserved  as  long  as  the  metal  of  which 
it  is  made  will  stick  together. 

After  takin'  a  good  look  at  it,  and  readin'  the  in- 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  229 

scription  on  it,  I  went  up  higher  in  the  steeple,  and 
tuck  a  look  at  the  city.  Well,  I  thought  thar  was 
brick  and  morter  enough  under  my  eyes  at  one  time 
when  I  was  on  the  Washington  monument  in  Balti- 
more ;  but,  sir,  Baltimore,  large  as  it  is,  ain't  a  primin' 
to  Filladelfy.  I  could  see  nothin'  but  one  eternal 
mass  of  houses  on  ever}-  side.  On  the  east,  I  could 
see  the  Delaware,  what  divided  the  city  from  the 
houses  on  the  Jersey  side  ;  but  on  the  north  and 
south  it  was  impossible  to  see  the  eend  of  'em. 
They  stretched  out  for  miles,  until  you  could  n't  tell 
one  from  another,  and  then  the  confused  mass  of 
chimneys,  roofs,  and  steeples  seemed  to  mingle  in 
the  gray  obscure  of  the  smoky  horizon.  The  streets 
run  north  and  south,  east  and  west,  at  right  angles, 
as  straight  and  level  as  the  rows  in  a  cotton  patch. 
The  fact  is,  I  can't  compare  the  city  to  anything  else 
but  one  everlastin'  big  chess-board,  covered  with 
pieces :  the  churches  with  steeples  answerin'  for 
castles,  the  State  House,  Exchange,  and  other  public 
bildins  for  kings,  the  banks  for  bishops,  the 
theatres  and  hotels  for  knights,  and  so  on  down 
til  you  cum  to  the  private  houses,  which  would  do 
to  stand  for  counters.  The  only  difficulty  in  the 
comparison  is  that  ther  ain't  no  room  to  move,  — 
the  game  bein'  completely  blocked  or  checkmated 
everywhar,  except  round  the  edges,  and  whar  ther 
is  now  and  then  a  square  left  for  a  public  walk. 

I  was  standin'  thar  ruminatin'  and  wonderin'  at 
the  great  city  that  was  stretched  out  at  my  feet,  and 
thinkin'  to  myself  what  a  heap  of  happiness  and 
misery,  wealth  and  poverty,  virtue  and  vice,  it  con- 
tained, and  how  if  I  was  a  Asmodeus  what  a  inter- 
estin'  panorama  it  would  afford  me,  when  the  fust 


230  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

thing  I  know'd  I  cum  in  a  ace  of  jumpin'  spang  off 
the  steeple  into  the  tree-tops  below.  Whang  !  went 
something  right  close  by  me,  with  a  noise  louder 
than  a  fifty-six  pounder,  that  made  the  old  steeple 
totter  and  creak  as  if  it  was  gwine  all  to  pieces.  I 
grabbed  hold  of  the  railins  and  held  on  to  'em  with 
all  my  might,  til  I  tuck  seven  of  them  allfired  licks, 
ev^ery  one  of  which  I  thought  would  nock  my  senses 
out  of  me.  It  jarred  my  very  inards,  and  made  me 
so  deaf  I  could  n't  hear  myself  think  for  a  ower  af- 
terwards. Come  to  find  out  it  was  the  town  clock 
strikin'  in  the  steeple  rite  over  my  head.  It  was  a 
monstrous  lucky  thing  for  me  that  it  was  n't  no  later, 
for  I  do  believe  if  it  had  been  ten  or  leven  o'clock 
it  would  been  the  deth  of  me. 

As  soon  as  I  got  able  to  travel  I  cum  down  out  of 
that  place  and  went  through  Independence  Square, 
what 's  right  in  the  rear  of  the  State  House,  to 
Washington  Square.  This  is  said  to  be  the  hand- 
sumest  public  square  in  the  world ;  it  certainly  is 
the  handsumest  I  ever  seed,  and  I  do  blieve  that  on 
this  occasion  ther  was  n't  that  spot  of  earth  on  the 
whole  globe  that  could  compare  with  it.  I  don't 
mean  the  square  itself,  —  though  that  is  handsum 
enuff  in  all  conscience,  with  its  butiful  gravelled 
walks,  its  handsum  grass-plats,  its  shady  trees,  and 
ellegant  iron  fence,  that  would  cost  more  itself  than 
all  the  houses  in  Pineville,  —  but  what  I  mean  is 
the  scene  what  I  saw  in  the  square. 

If  there  was  one  I  do  blieve  ther  was  fifteen  hun- 
dred to  two  thousand  children  in  the  square  at  one 
time,  all  rangin'  from  two  to  seven  and  eight  years 
old,  and  all  dressed  in  the  most  butiful  style.  Thar 
they  was,  little  galls  and  boys,  all  playin'  and  movin' 


MAJOR   JOiXES'S   TRAVELS.  23  I 

about  in  every  direction  :  some  jumpin'  the  rope, 
some  rollin'  hoops  ;  here  a  party  of  little  galls  dan- 
cin'  the  polker,  and  thar  another  playin  at  battle- 
door  or  the  graces  ;  some  runnin'  races,  and  some 
walkin  '  ;  some  of  'em  butiful  as  little  Coopids,  and 
all  as  merry  and  sprightly  as  crickets.  It  was  a 
kind  of  juvenile  svvoiree,  as  they  call  'em  here,  and 
I  never  did  see  any  little  creaters  that  seemed  to 
enjoy  themselves  so  much.  I  never  seed  so  many 
children  together  before  in  all  my  life,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  ther  was  n't  a  sickly  one  among  'em.  Per- 
haps the  sickly  ones  couldn't  come  out  when  the 
wether  was  so  cool.  But  if  they  was  a  fair  spece- 
rnen  of  the  children  of  Filladelfy,  then  I  can  say 
there  ain't  a  city  in  the  world  that  can  beat  her 
for  handsum,  clean,  well-dressed,  healthy-lookin' 
children.  Ther  was  lots  of  nurses  among  'em  to 
take  care  of  'em,  and  now  and  then  you  could  see 
a  pair  of  little  niggers  tryin'  to  mix  in  with  'em  ; 
but  it  was  no  go,  and  the  pore  little  blackys  had  to 
sneak  round  the  corners  and  look  on  like  pore  folks 
at  a  frollick,  the  little  children  not  bein'  sufficiently 
edicated  yet  to  enable  them  to  discover  their  equals 
in  the  sable  descendants  of  Africa. 

While  I  was  lookin'  about  in  the  square,  who 
should  I  ste  but  the  famous  Count  P.arraty,  what 
was  out  to  Pineville,  you  know,  about  two  years  ago, 
Jecturein'  on  Greece.  Thar  he  was,  with  the  san^.e 
old  shaggy  locks  and  big  moustaches,  standi n'  near 
a  groop  of  servant  galls,  with  his  arms  folded,  lookin' 
on  in  the  attitude  of  Bonaparte  at  St.  Helleny. 
Poor  old  feller,  I  could  n't  help  but  pity  him,  when 
I  thought  what  terrible  vicissitudes  he  has  passed 
through  sense  he  was  in  Georgia.     You  know  whei? 


232  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

he  left  Pinevillc  he  told  us  wc  would  hear  from  him 
in  the  papers,  and  in  less  than  a  month  we  did  hear 
from  him,  shore  enuff,  in  the  "  Pickyune,"  what  gin 
a  account  of  that  terrible  encounter  he  had  with  a 
cowhide  in  the  hands  of  sum  gentleman  in  New 
Orleans,  whose  lady  did  n't  understand  Greek  enuff 
to  enable  her  to  appreciate  his  foreign  manners. 
The  Count  don't  wear  so  much  jewelry  now  as  he 
use  to  in  Georgia,  and  his  clothes  look  a  little  seedy. 
But  he  's  the  same  old  Count  in  every  other  respect. 
As  soon  as  he  seed  me  he  relaxed  the  austerity  of 
his  moustaches,  and  went  out  of  the  square. 

Bimeby  the  swoiree  was  over,  and  the  nurses  be- 
gun to  gether  up  iher  charges  and  prepare  for  gwine 
home.  The  merry  laugh  and  song  soon  died  away, 
and  troop  after  troop  of  little  people  filed  out  of  the 
gates  in  every  direction,  until  the  square  was  en- 
tirely deserted. 

It  was  tea  time,  and  I  went  to  my  hotel.  Sense 
tea  I  have  rit  you  this  letter,  informin'  you  of  my 
arrival  here.  I  'm  gwine  to  bed  early  to-night,  and 
if  it  don't  rain  to-morrow  I  'm  gwine  to  take  a  early 
start  and  see  what  Filladelfy  's  made  out  of  before 
nite.      So  no  more  from 

Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 


VI. 

THE    major's    adventures    IN    GOTHAM. 

New  York,  Ju7ie  2,  1S45. 

I  arriv  in  this  city,  all  safe  and  sound,  yesterday 
afternoon  about  three  o'clock,  but  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  if  I  had  cum  up  minus  my  coat-tail,  or  even  a 


MAJOR  JONES'S    TRAVELS.  233 

\q%  or  arm,  after  sich  a  everlastin'  racket  as  I  have 
been  in  ever  sense  I  left  Filladelfy,  I  would  n't  been 
much  surprised.  As  for  coilectin'  my  senses,  and 
gitin'  my  mind  composed  so  as  to  know  myself  or 
anything  else  certain,  I  don't  never  expect  to  do  it 
as  long  as  I  'm  in  this  great  whirlpool  of  livin' 
beins. 

A  little  circumstance  happened  to  me  last  night, 
before  I  had  been  here  only  a  few  hours,  that  sot 
me  back  a  little  the  worst.  I  never  was  so  ouda- 
ciously  tuck  in  in  all  my  born  days,  and  if  you  had 
heard  me  cus  about  it  you'd  thought  I  was  turned  a 
real  Hottentot,  sure  enuff.  But  to  begin  whar  I 
left  off  in  my  last  letter. 

The  porter  at  the  United  States  Hotel  waked  me 
up  early  in  the  mornin',  and  I  got  to  the  steamboat 
jest  in  time.  It  was  a  butiful  bright  mornin',  and 
the  store-keepers  was  openin'  ther  stores,  while  the 
servant  galls  was  scrubbin'  the  dore-steps  of  the 
houses,  and  washin'  off  the  pavements  in  front  of 
'em.  I  looked  at  'em  as  I  rode  along  in  the  hack, 
and  I  could  n't  help  feelin'  sorry  to  see  such  butiful, 
rosy-cheeked  white  galls  down  in  the  dirt  and  slop 
in  the  streets,  doin'  work  that  is  only  fit  for  niggers. 
They  say  here  that  they  ain't  nothing  but  slewers, 
but  I  seed  sum  that  I  would  tuck  for  respectable 
white  galls  if  I  had  seed  'em  in  Georgia.  Slewers 
or  whatever  they  is,  they  is  my  own  color,  and  a  few 
dollars  would  make  'em  as  good  as  ther  mistresses, 
in  the  estimation  of  them  that  turns  up  ther  noses 
at  'em  now. 

The  Delaware  is  a  noble  river,  and  Filladelfy  is  a 
city  worthy  to  stand  on  its  banks.  From  the  deck 
of  the  steamboat  we  had  a  splendid  panaramic  view 


234  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

of  it,  as  we  passed  block  after  block,  the  strtets 
runnin'  up  from  the  water's  edge,  strait  as  a  bee 
line,  and  affordin'  us  glimpses  of  the  fine  houses 
and  elegant  public  bildins  that  makes  Filladelfy  one 
of  the  handsumest  cities  in  the  world.  But,  long  as 
it  is,  we  was  soon  past  it,  and  in  a  few  minits  its 
numerous  steeples  and  towers  and  masts  faded  away 
in  the  distance,  and  we  turned  our  eyes  on  the  buti- 
ful  country  on  both  sides  of  the  river. 

Butiful  farm  houses  and  bright-lookin'  little  towns 
was  most  all  the  time  in  site,  til  we  got  to  the  place 
what  they  call  Bristol,  whar  we  tuck  the  cars  to 
New  York.  The  railroad  runs  along  on  the  bank 
of  a  canal  part  of  the  way,  crosses  the  river  on  a 
splendid  bridge,  and  passes  through  Trenton,  Prince- 
ton, Newark,  and  a  heap  of  other  towns  in  New 
Jersey,  til  it  gits  to  Jersey  City,  what  stands  on  the 
Hudson  River,  opposite  to  the  city  of  New  York. 

Well,  when  we  got  to  Jersey  City,  we  all  got  out, 
and  scrambled  through  the  crowd  as  well  as  we  could 
to  the  boat  what  was  thar  to  take  us  across  the  river 
to  New  York.  When  we  got  up  to  the  gate  what 
encloses  the  wharf  we  could  see  the  hackmen  and 
porters  peepin'  at  us  through  the  palms,  like  so 
many  wild  varmints  in  a  big  cage,  ready  and  eager 
to  devour  us  and  our  baggage  too.  I  tuck  my  cane 
tight  in  my  hand,  and  kep  a  sharp  eye  on  'em,  de- 
termined to  defend  myself  to  the  last.  As  soon  as 
the  gates  was  open  we  rushed  for  the  boat,  and  they 
rushed  at  us.  Sich  another  hellabaloo  I  never  did 
see  before,  and  I  expected  every  minit  to  see  sum- 
body  git  spilled  overboard  into  the  river. 

I  found  it  was  n't  no  use  to  try  to  keep  'em  off 
without  nockin'  sum  of  'em  in  the  hed,  and  then  I 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  235 

Vv'ould  only  be  like  the  fox  in  the  spellin'  book,  ready 
to  be  worried  to  deth  by  a  fresh  gang.  So  when 
they  cum  round  me  with,  "  Have  a  hack,  sir  ? "  — 
''I'm  pubUc  poorter,  sir,"  —  "Shall  I  take  your 
baggage  up,  sir  ?  "  —  "  Will  you  give  me  your  checks, 
sir?"  —  "Take  you  up  for  two  shillins,  sir,  to  any 
part  of  the  city,"  — all  of  'em  handin'  ther  cards  to 
me  at  once,  I  jest  backed  up  agin  the  side  of  the 
boat  and  tuck  evry  card  they  handed  to  me,  without 
sayin'  a  word,  and  when  they  ax'd  me  for  my  checks 
i  was  deaf  and  dum,  and  could  n't  understand  a 
word  they  sed.  That  sot  'em  to  pushin'  and 
crowdin'  one  another,  and  hollerin'  in  my  ear,  and 
makin'  signs  to  me,  til  they  found  they  could  n't 
make  nothing  out  of  me,  and  then  they  started  after 
sum  new  victim. 

Among  the  passengers  ther  was  a  old  sun-burnt 
lookin'  feller,  with  green  spectacles  on,  what  put  me 
in  mind  of  a  Georgia  steam  doctor,  and  who  seemed 
to  think  he  know'd  more  than  anybody  else  'bout 
evry  thing.  He  was  gabbin'  and  talkin'  to  evrybody 
all  the  way  on  the  steamboat  and  in  the  cars,  and 
tryin'  his  best  to  git  up  a  argyment  'bout  religion 
with  sumbody.  One  would  supposed  he  owned  half 
the  baggage  aboard,  to  hear  him  talk  about  it,  and 
when  we  got  on  the  ferry  boat  he  was  the  bissyest 
man  in  the  crowxl,  rearin'  and  pitchin'  among  the 
hackmen  and  porters  like  a  blind  dog  in  a  meat 
house,  and  tryin'  to  git  into  the  crowd  what  was 
gathered  all  round  the  baggage  like  flies  round  a  fat 
gourd.  Bimeby  a  honest-lookin'  Irishman  cum  up 
to  me,  and  ses  he.  handin'  his  card,  "  Shall  I  take 
your  baggage,  sir }  "  Ther  was  sumthing  like  honest 
independence  in  the  feller's  face,  and  I  gin  him  my 


236  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

checks,  and  in  he  went  *for  my  trunks.  In  a  minit 
he  cum  out  safe  and  sound  with  one  of  'em.  "  Stand 
by  it,  sir,"  ses  he,  "til  I  git  the  other."  I  tuck  my 
stand,  and  it  was  jest  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  keep 
the  devils  from  carryin'  it  off  with  me  on  top  of  it. 
Ther  was  sich  a  everlastin'  rumpus  I  couldn't  hear 
myself  think.  The  clerks  was  callin'  out  the  num- 
bers ;  evrybody  was  runnin'  about  and  lookin'  after 
ther  baggage  ;  children  was  cryin'  ;  wimmin  was 
callin'  for  ther  husbands  to  look  out  for  ther  band- 
boxes ;  hackmen  and  porters  was  hollerin'  and  shoutin' 
at  the  people,  and  at  one  another  ;  whips  was  stickin' 
in  your  eyes  evry  way  you  turned  ;  and  trunks  and 
carpet  bags  and  boxes  was  tumblin'  and  rollin'  in 
every  direction,  rakin'  your  shins  and  mashin'  your 
toes  in  spile  of  all  you  could  do.  In  the  middle  of 
the  fuss  thar  was  old  Pepperpod,  with  his  old  cotton 
umbereller  in  his  hand,  elbowin'  his  way  into  the 
crowd,  and  whoopin'  and  hollerin'  over  evrybody 
else  til  he  disappeared  in  the  middle  of  'em.  In 
about  a  minit  here  he  cum  agin,  cusin'  and  cavortin* 
enuff  to  sink  the  boat,  with  a  pair  of  old  saddle-bags 
in  one  hand,  sum  pieces  of  whalebone  and  part  of 
the  handle  of  his  umbreller  in  the  other,  his  hat 
gone,  and  his  coat-tail  split  clear  up  to  the  collar. 
He  was  mad  as  a  hornit,  and  swore  he  would  prose- 
cute the  company  for  five  thousand  dollars  damages 
for  salt  and  battery  and  manslaughter  in  the  second 
degree.  He  cut  a  terrible  figer,  but  evrybody  was 
too  bissy  to  laugh  at  him.  I  thought  to  myself  that 
his  perseverance  was  porely  rewarded  that  time. 

I  sot  thar  and  waited  til  nearly  everybody  was 
gone  from  the  boat,  and  til  my  Irishman  had  picked 
up  all   the  other  customers  he  could  git,  before  h^ 


MAJOR   JONES'S    TRAVELS.  237 

come  and  tuck  my  trunk  and  told  me  to  foliar  him 
to  his  hack.  After  cumin'  in  a  ace  of  gettin'  run 
over  three  or  four  times,  I  got  to  the  hack,  what  was 
standin'  in  the  middle  of  'bout  five  hundred  more 
hacks  and  drays,  all  mixed  up  with  the  bowsprits 
and  yards  of  ships  that  was  stickin'  out  over  the 
edge  of  the  wharves,  and  pokin'  ther  eends  almost 
into  the  winders  of  the  stores.  The  hackman  ax'd 
me  what  hotel  I  wanted  to  go  to.  I  told  him  to  take 
me  whar  the  Southern  travel  stopped.  "  That 's  the 
American,"  ses  he ;  and  after  waitin'  til  the  way 
opened  so  we  could  git  out,  we  druvto  the  American 
Hotel  on  Broadway,  rite  opposite  to  the  Park. 

It  was  'bout  three  o'clock  when  I  got  to  the  hotel, 
and  after  brushin'  and  scrubbin'  a  little  of  the  dust 
off,  and  gittin'  my  dinner,  I  tuck  a  turn  out  into  the 
great  Broadway,  what  I  've  heard  so  much  about 
ever  sense  I  was  big  enuff  to  read  the  newspapers, 
to  see  if  it  was  what  it 's  cracked  up  to  be.  Well, 
when  I  got  to  the  door  of  the  hotel  I  thought  ther 
must  be  a  funeral  or  something  else  gwine  by,  and 
I  waited  some  time,  thinkin'  they  would  all  git  past ; 
but  they  only  seemed  to  git  thicker  and  faster  and 
more  of  'em  the  longer  I  waited,  til  bimeby  I  begun 
to  discover  that  they  was  gwine  both  ways,  and  that 
it  was  no  procession  at  all,  but  jest  one  everlastin' 
stream  of  peeple  passin'  up  and  down  the  street, 
cumin'  from  all  parts  of  creation,  and  gwine  Lord 
only  knows  whar. 

I  mix'd  in  with  'em,  but  I  tell  you  what,  I  found 
it  monstrous  rough  travellm'.  The  fact  is  a  chicken- 
coop  mought  as  well  expect  to  float  down  the  Savan- 
nah River  in  a  freshet,  and  not  git  nocked  to  pieces 
by  the  driftwood,  as  for  a  person  what  ain't  used  to 


238  ODD /TIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

it  to  expect  to  git  along  in  Broadway  without  gettin' 
jostled  from  one  side  to  tother  at  every  step,  and 
pushed  into  the  street  about  three  times  a  minit.  A 
body  must  watch  the  currents  and  eddies,  and  foller 
'em  and  keep  up  with  'em,  if  they  don't  want  to  git  run 
over  by  the  crowd  or  nocked  off  the  sidewalk,  to  be 
ground  into  mince-meat  by  the  everlastin'  ominy- 
busses.  In  the  fust  place,  I  undertuck  to  go  up 
Broadway  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  pavement,  but 
I  mought  jest  as  well  tried  to  paddle  a  canoe  up  the 
falls  of  Tallula.  In  spite  of  all  the  dodgin'  I  could  do, 
sumbody  was  all  the  time  bumpin'  up  agin  me,  so 
that  with  the  bumps  I  got  from  the  men  and  givin 
back  for  the  wimmin,  I  found  I  was  loosin'  ground 
instead  of  gwine  ahead.  Then  I  kep  "  to  the  right, 
as  the  law  directs,"  but  here  I  like  to  got  run  over 
by  the  crowd  of  men  and  wimmin  and  children  and 
niggers,  what  was  all  gwine  as  fast  as  if  ther  houses 
was  afire,  or  they  was  runnin'  for  the  doctor.  And 
if  I  happened  to  stop  to  look  at  anything  the  fust 
thing  I  knowed  I  was  jammed  out  among  the  ominy- 
busses,  what  was  dashin'  and  whirlin'  along  over  the 
stones  like  one  eternal  train  of  railroad  cars,  makin' 
a  noise  like  heaven  and  yeath  was  cumin'  together. 
Then  ther  was  the  carriages  and  hacks  and  market 
wagons  and  milk  carts,  rippin'  and  tearin'  along  in 
every  direction  ;  the  drivers  hollerin'  and  poppin' 
ther  whips  the  peeple  talkin'  to  one  another  as  if 
ther  lungs  was  made  out  of  sole  leather ;  soldiers 
marchin'  with  bands  of  music,  beatin'  of  ther  drums 
and  blowin'  and  slidin'  ther  tromboons  and  trumpets 
with  all  ther  might,  —  all  together  makin'  noise  enuff 
to  drive  the  very  old  Nick  himself  out  of  his  senses. 
It  was  more  than  I  could  stand ;  my  dander  begun  to 


MAJOR    JONES'S   TRAVELS.  239 

g^it  up,  and  I  rushed  out  into  the  fust  street  I  cum 
to,  to  try  to  git  out  of  the  racket  before  it  sot  me 
crazy  sure  enuff,  when  what  should  I  meet  but  a 
dratted  grate  big  nigger  with  a  bell  in  his  hand, 
ringin'  it  rite  in  my  face  as  hard  as  he  could,  and 
hollerin'  sumthing  loud  enuff  to  split  the  hed  of 
a  lamp-post.  That  was  too  much,  and  I  made  a 
lick  at  the  feller  with  my  cane  that  would  lowered 
his  key  if  it  had  hit  him,  at  the  same  time  that  I 
grabbed  him  by  the  collar,  and  ax'd  him  what  in  the 
name  of  thunder  he  meant  by  sich  imperence.  The 
feller  drapped  his  bell  and  shut  his  catfish  mouth, 
and  rollin'  up  the  whites  of  his  eyes,  'thout  sayin'  a 
word,  he  broke  away  from  me  as  hard  as  he  could 
tear,  and  I  hastened  on  to  find  some  place  less  like 
bedlam  than  Broadway. 

By  this  time  it  was  most  dark,  and  after  walkin' 
down  one  street  til  I  cum  to  a  garte  big  gardin  with 
trees  in  it,  whar  it  was  so  still  that  noises  begun  to 
sound  natural  to  me  agin,  I  sot  down  on  the  railins 
and  rested  myself  awhile,  and  then  sot  out  for  my 
hotel.  I  walked  and  walked  for  some  time,  but 
somehow  or  other  I  could  n't  find  the  way.  I  in- 
quired for  the  American  Hotel  two  or  three  times, 
and  got  the  direction,  but  the  streets  twisted  about 
so  that  it  was  out  of  the  question  for  me  to  foller 
'em  when  they  told  me,  and  I  begun  to  think  I  'd 
have  to  take  up  my  lodgins  somewhar  else  for  that 
night,  I  was  so  tired.  Bimeby  I  cum  to  a  street  that 
was  very  still  and  quiet,  what  they  called  Chambers 
Street ;  and  while  I  was  standin'  on  the  corner, 
thinkin'  which  way  I  should  go,  'long  cum  a  pore 
woman  with  a  bundle  under  her  arm,  creepin'  along 
as  if  she  was  n't  hardly  able  to  walk.     When  she 


240  ODDIllES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

seed  me  she  cum  up  to  me  and  put  her  hankcrchef 
to  her  eyes,  and  ses  she  :  — 

"  Mister,  I  'm  a  pore  woman,  and  my  husban  's  so 
sick  he  ain't  able  to  do  any  work,  and  me  and  my 
pore  Uttle  children  is  almost  starvin'  for  bred.  Won't 
you  be  good  enuff  to  give  me  two  shillins  ?  " 

I  looked  at  her  a  bit,  and  thought  of  the  way  the 
match-boy  served  me  in  Baltimore,  and  ses  I,  — 

**  Hain't  you  got  no  relations  nor  neighbors  that 
can  help  you  ?  " 

"■  Oh,  no,  sir ;  I  'm  too  pore  to  have  relations  or 
neighbors.  I  was  better  off  once,  and  then  I  had 
plenty  of  frends." 

That  's  the  way  of  the  world,  thinks  I ;  we  always 
have  frends  til  we  need  'em. 

"  Oh,  sir,  if  you  only  know'd  how  hard  I  have  to 
work,  you  'd  pity  me,  —  I  know  you  would." 

"■  What  do  you  do  for  a  livin' }  "  ses  I ;  for  she 
looked  too  delicate  to  do  much. 

*'  I  do  fine  washin'  and  ironin',"  ses  she  ;  ''  but  I  'm 
sick  so  much  that  I  can't  make  enuff  to  support 
us  ;  "  and  then  she  coffed  a  real  graveyard  coff. 

"Why  don't  you  git  sum  of  Schenck's  Pulmonic 
Syrup  }  "  ses  I. 

'*  Oh,  sir,"  ses  she,  "  I  'm  too  pore  to  buy  medicin, 
when  my  pore  little  children  is  dyin'  for  bred." 

That  touched  me,  to  think  sich  a  delicate  young 
cretur  as  her  should  have  to  struggle  so  hard,  and  I 
tuck  out  my  purse  and  gin  her  a  dollar. 

"  Thar,"  ses  I,  **  that  will  help  you  a  little." 

"Oh,  bless  you,  sir;  you're  so  kind.  Now  I  '11 
buy  sum  medicin  for  my  pore  husband.  Will  you 
be  good  enuff  to  hold  this  bundle  for  me  til  I  step 


MAJOR  JONES'S   TRAVELS.  24I 

back  to  that  drug-store  on   the  corner  ?     It  *s  so 
heavy.     I  '11  be  back  in  a  minit,"  ses  she. 

I  felt  so  sorry  for  the  pore  woman  that  I  could  n't 
refuse  her  sich  a  little  favor,  so  I  tuck  her  bundle  to 
hold  it  for  her.  She  said  she  was  'fraid  the  fine 
dresses  mought  git  rumpled,  and  then  her  custom- 
ers would  n't  pay  her  ;  so  I  tuck  'em  in  my  arms 
very  careful,  and  she  went  to  the  store  after  the  med- 
icin. 

Ther  was  a  good  many  peeple  passin'  by,  and  I 
walked  up  from  the  corner  a  little  ways,  so  they 
should  n't  see  me  standin'  thar  with  the  bundle  in 
my  arms.  I  begun  to  think  it  was  time  for  the 
woman  to  cum  back,  and  the  bundle  was  beginnin' 
to  git  pretty  heavy,  when  I  thought  I  felt  sumthing 
movin'  in  it.  I  stopped  rite  still,  and  held  my  breth 
to  hear  if  it  was  anything,  when  it  begun  to  squirm 
about  more  and  more,  and  I  heard  a  noise  jest  like 
a  tom-cat  in  the  bundle.  I  never  was  so  supprised 
in  my  life,  and  I  cum  in  a  ace  of  lettin'  it  drap  rite 
on  the  pavement.  Thinks  T,  in  the  name  of  crea- 
tion, what  is  it .''  I  walked  down  to  the  lamp-post  to 
see  what  it  was,  and  Mr.  Thompson,  would  you  be- 
lieve  me,  it  was  a  live  baby  !  I  was  so  completely 
tuck  aback  that  I  staggered  up  agin  the  lamp-post 
and  held  on  to  it,  while  it  kicked  and  squalled  like 
a  young  panter,  and  the  sweat  jest  poured  out  of 
me  in  a  stream.  What  upon  yeath  to  do  I  did  n't 
know.  Thar  I  was  in  a  strange  city,  whar  nobody 
did  n't  know  me,  out  in  the  street  with  a  little  young 
baby  in  my  arms.  I  never  was  so  mad  at  a  female 
woman  before  in  all  my  life,  and  I  never  felt  so 
much  like  a  dratted  fool  as  I  did  that  minit. 

I  started  for  the  drug-store,  with  the  baby  squallin' 


I  > 


242  ODDITIES  IX  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

like  rath,  and  the  more  I  tried  to  liusli  it  the  h)uder 
it  squalled.  The  man  what  kep  the  store  said  he  had 
n't  seed  no  such  woman,  and  I  mus'  n't  bring  no 
babys  in  than 

By  this  time  a  everlastin'  crowd  of  peeple  —  men 
and  wdmmin  —  was  gathered  round,  so  I  c  jald  n't  go 
no  whar,  all  gabblin'  and  talkin'  so  I  could  n't  hardly 
hear  the  baby  squall. 

I  told  'em  how  it  was,  and  told  'em  I  was  a 
stranger  in  New  York,  and  ax'd  'em  what  I  should 
do  with  the  baby.  But  ther  was  no  gettin'  any 
sense  out  of  'em,  and  none  of  'em  would  n't  touch  it 
no  more  'n  if  it  had  been  so  much  pisen. 

"  That  won't  do,"  ses  one  feller.  "  You  can't 
cum  that  game  over  this  crowd." 

"No,  indeed,"  ses  another  little  runty-lookin* 
feller  ;  "  we  've  got  enuff  to  do  to  take  care  of  our 
own  babys  in  these  diggins." 

"  Take  your  baby  home  to  its  ma,"  ses  another, 
**  and  support  it  like  a  onest  man." 

I  tried  to  git  a  chance  to  explain  the  bisness  to 
'em,  but  drat  the  word  could  I  git  in  edgeways. 

•'Take 'em  both  to  the  ToomiS,"  ses  one,  "and 
make  'em  giv  a  account  of  themselves." 

With  that  two  or  three  of  'em  cum  toward  me, 
and  I  grabbed  my  cane  in  one  hand,  while  I  held 
on  to  the  bundle  with  the  other. 

**  Gentlemen,"  ses  I  —  the  baby  squeelin'  all  the 
time  like  forty  cats  in  a  bag —  "  gentlemen,  I  'm  not 
gwine  to  be  used  in  no  sich  way.  I  '11  let  you  know 
that  I  'm  not  gwdne  to  be  tuck  to  no  Tooms.  I  'm  a 
stranger  in  your  city,  and  I  'm  not  gwine  to  sup- 
port none  of  your  babys.  My  name  is  Joseph 
Jones,   of    Pineville,    Georgia,   and    anybody    vvhc 


u-.*- 


MAJOR   JONES'S   TRAVELS.  243 

;vants  to  know  who  I  am  can  find  me  at  the 
American  "  — 

"  Majer  Jones  !  Majer  Jones,  of  Pineville  !  "  ses  a 
dozen  of  'em  at  the  same  time. 

"  Majer  Jones,"  ses  a  clever-lookin'  young  man, 
what  pushed  his  way  into  the  crowd  when  he  heard 
my  name.  "  Majer,  don't  be  disturbed  in  the  least," 
ses  he.     "  I  '11  soon  have  this  matter  fixed." 

With  that  he  spoke  to  a  man  with  a  lether  ribbon 
on  his  hat,  who  tuck  the  baby,  bundle  and  all,  and 
carried  it  off  to  the  place  what  they  've  got  made  in 
New  York  a  purpose  to  keep  sich  pore  little  cr- 
fans  in. 

By  this  time  my  frend,  Mr.  Jacob  Littlehigh,  who 
is  a  Georgian,  livin'  in  New  York,  had  interduced 
himself  to  me  and  'bout  twenty  other  gentlemen, 
and  I  begun  to  find  myself  'bout  as  much  of  a  object 
of  attraction  after  the  baby  was  gone  as  I  was  be- 
fore. I  never  seed  one  of  'em  before  in  my  life,  but 
they  all  sed  they  had  red  my  book,  and  they  did  n't 
know  nobodv  else.      So  much  for  bein'  a  author. 

They  was  all  monstrous  glad  to  see  me,  and 
wanted  to  know  how  Mary  and  the  baby  was  at 
home  ;  and  'fore  they  let  me  off  they  made  me  go 
down  to  Bardotte  &  Shelly's  Caffe  Tortoni,  and  eat 
one  of  the  biggest  kind  of  oyster  suppers,  and  drink 
sum  sherry  coblers  what  would  develop  the  intel- 
lect of  a  barber's  block,  and  expand  the  heart  of  a 
Florida  live-oak.  Thev  was  the  cleverest  set  of 
fellers  I  ever  seed  out  of  Georgia,  and  after  spendin' 
a  pleasant  hour  with  'em,  laughin'  over  the  incidents 
of  the  evenin',  they  showed  me  home  to  my  hotel, 
tvhar  I  soon  went  to  bed  to  dream  of  bundles  full  of 
babys  and  oceans  of  sherry  coblers. 


244  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

You  must  excuse  this  long  letter,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances.    No  more  from 

Your  friend,  till  death,  Jos.  Jones. 

P.  S.  —  Don't  for  the  world  let  Mary  know  any- 
thing about  the  baby,  for  she  'd  want  to  know  what 
upon  yeath  I  was  runnin'  about  the  street  at  night 
for,  holdin'  bundles  for  pore  wimmin,  and  I  never 
could  explain  it  to  her  satisfaction.  Ther  's  one 
thing  monstrous  certain  —  I  '11  go  a  hundred  yards 
round  the  next  woman  I  meet  in  the  street  with  a 
bundle  in  her  arms. 


DAVY   CROCKETT. 


Among  the  unreal  characters  of  Southern  fiction,  there  is  none 
more  unique  than  the  real  personage,  Davy  Crockett.  Indeed,  the 
story  of  this  rough-and-ready  humorist  of  the  backwoods  reads  like 
a  romance.  He  was  born  in  Greene  County,  Tennessee,  the  17th  of 
August,  1786.  His  father,  a  Revolutionary  soldier,  of  Irish  extraction, 
was  a  poor  frontiersman,  and  the  son,  born  and  reared  in  the  log  cabin 
of  the  period,  received  no  eaucation  whatever.  But  he  distinguished 
himself  very  early  in  life  as  a  marksman,  and  became  a  great  local 
favorite  on  account  of  his  amiability  and  courage.  He  commanded  a 
battalion  of  rifles  in  the  Creek  campaign  of  iS  13-14,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  war  of  1S12-15  divided  his  time  as  a  bear-hunter  and  a 
member  of  the  Tennessee  legislature.  In  1S27  he  was  elected  a  rep- 
resentative to  the  Twentieth  Congress,  taking  his  seat  in  the  House' 
on  the  first  Monday  of  December  of  that  year.  He  was  subsequently 
reelected  in  1S29,  and  defeated  in  1831  ;  was  returned  for  a  third 
term  in  1833.  Although  he  entered  public  life  as  the  friend  of  Gen- 
eral Jackson,  he  became  bitterly  opposed  to  the  administration  when 
the  General  was  elected  President.  This,  united  to  his  original  and 
quaint  character,  his  perfect  integrity  and  courage,  and  his  odd  and 
expressive  colloquial  powers,  made  him  a  prodigious  'popularity  in 
anti-Jackson  circles.  He  was  quoted  and  feted  on  all  hands  ;  his 
sayings  formed  a  part  of  the  political  capital  and  campaign  phrase- 
ology of  his  time  ;  and,  upon  a  tour  he  mad'i  in  the  North  and  East, 
the  people  everywhere  turned  out  en  masse  to  meet  and  greet  him. 
In  1835,  th^  whole  power  of  the  administration  being  put  forth  to 
beat  him,  he  lost  his  election  by  a  scant  majority.  In  his  canvass  he 
said  to  the  people,  "  If  3'ou  reelect  me  to  Congress,  I  will  serve  you 
faithfully.  If  you  don't,  you  may  go  to  the  devil,  and  I  \\\\\  go  to 
Texas."  In  accordance  with  this  promise,  no  sooner  was  the  election 
over  and  the  result  announced  than  he  set  out  for  the  seat  of  war  in 
the  young  republic.  He  arrived  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  first  bat- 
tle and  capture  of  San  Antonio  de  Bexar,  and  to  die  bravely  fighting 
in  the  defense  of  the  Alamo,  the  6th  of  March,  1836.  This  sudden 
and  tragic  end  of  a  career  so  conspicuous  and  so  whimsical  made  a 


246  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

deep  impression  upon  the  country  ;  and  ever  since  the  nnme  and  fame 
of  Davy  Crockett  have  held  a  lender  ])lace  in  the  reineml:)rance  of  his 
countrymen.  Colonel  Crockett  dictated  quite  a  number  of  reminis- 
cences and  anecdotes  of  his  adventures  for  publication,  and  from 
such  of  these  as  seem  authentic  I  have  taken  the  following  ex- 
tracts :  — 


I. 


A    USEFUL    COON    SKIN. 

While  on  the  subject  of  election  matters,  I  will 
just  relate  a  little  anecdote  about  myself,  which  will 
show  the  people  to  the  east  how  we  manage  these 
things  on  the  frontiers.  It  was  when  I  first  run  for 
Congress  ;  I  was  then  in  favor  of  the  Hero,  for  he 
had  chalked  out  his  course  so  sleek  in  his  letter  to 
the  Tennessee  legislature  that,  like  Sam  Patch,  says 
I,  ''There  can  be  no  mistake  in  him,"  and  so  I  went 
ahead.  No  one  dreamt  about  the  monster  and  the 
deposits  at  that  time,  and  so,  as  I  afterward  found, 
many  like  myself  were  taken  in  by  these  fair  prom- 
ises, which  were  worth  about  as  much  as  a  flash  in 
the  pan  when  you  have  a  fair  shot' at  a  fat  bear. 

But  I  am  losing  sight  of  my  story.  Well,  I  started 
off  to  the  Cross  Roads  dressed  in  my  hunting  shirt, 
and  my  rifle  on  my  shoulder.  Many  of  our  constitu- 
ents had  assembled  there  to  get  a  taste  of  the  qual- 
ity of  the  candidates  at  orating.  Job  Snelling,  a 
gander-shanked  Yankee,  who  had  been  caught  some- 
wdiere  about  Plymouth  Bay,  and  been  shipped  to  the 
West  with  a  cargo  of  codfish  and  rum,  erected  a  large 
shantee,  and  set  up  shop  for  the  occasion.  A  large 
posse  of  the  voters  had  assembled  before  I  arrived, 
and  my  opponent  had  already  made  considerable 
headway   with   his    speechifying   and   his    treating, 


DAVY  CROCKETT.  247 

when  they  spied  me  about  a  rifle  shot  from  the 
camp,  sauntering  along  as  if  I  was  not  a  party  in 
business.  "  There  comes  Crockett,"  cried  one.  *'  Let 
us  hear  the  colonel,"  cried  another  ;  and  so  I  mounted 
tl^e  stump  that  had  been  cut  down  for  the  occasion, 
and  began  to  bushwhack  in  the  most  approved  style. 

I  had  not  been  up  long  before  there  was  such  an 
uproar  in  the  crowd  that  I  could  not  hear  my  own 
voice,  and  some  of  my  constituents  let  me  know 
that  they  could  not  listen  to  me  on  such  a  dry  sub- 
ject as  the  welfare  of  the  nation  until  they  had 
something  to  drink,  and  that  I  must  treat  them.  Ac- 
cordingly I  jumped  down  from  the  rostrum,  and  led 
the  way  to  the  shantee,  followed  by  my  constituents, 
shouting,  '*  Huzza  for  Crockett,"  and  "  Crockett  for- 
ever  ! 

When  we  entered  the  shantee  Job  was  busy  deal- 
ing out  his  rum  in  a  style  that  showed  he  was  mak- 
ing a  good  day's  work  of  it,  and  I  called  for  a  quart 
ot  the  best  ;  but  the  crooked  oritur  returned  no  other 
answer  than  by  pointing  to  a  board  over  the  bar,  on 
which  he  had  chalked  in  large  letters,  '*  Pay  to-d^y 
and  trust  to-morrow.'"  Now  that  idea  brought  me 
up  all  standing  ;  it  was  a  sort  of  cornering  in  which 
there  was  no  back  out,  for  ready  money  in  the  West, 
in  those  times,  was  the  shyest  thing  in  all  natur,  and 
it  was  most  particularly  shy  with  me  on  that  occa- 
sion. 

The  voters,  seeing  my  predicament,  fell  off  to  the 
other  side,  and  I  was  left  deserted  and  alone,  as  the 
Government  will  be,  when  he  no  longer  has  any 
offices  to  bestow.  I  saw  as  plain  as  day  that  the 
tide  of  popular  opinion  was  against  me,  and  that 
unless   I  got  some  rum  speedily  I  should  lose  my 


248  ODDITIES  LV  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

election  as  sure  as  there  are  snakes  in  Virginny  ; 
and  it  must  be  done  soon,  or  even  burnt  brandy 
would  n't  save  me.  So  I  walked  away  from  the 
shantee,  but  in  another  guess  sort  from  the  way  I 
entered  it,  for  on  this  occasion  I  had  no  train  after 
me,  and  not  a  voice  shouted,  "  Huzza  for  Crockett." 
Popularity  sometimes  depends  on  a  very  small  mat- 
ter indeed  ;  in  this  particular  it  was  worth  a  quart 
of  New  England  rum,  and  no  more. 

Well,  knowing  that  a  crisis  was  at  hand,  I  struck 
into  the  woods,  with  my  rifle  on  my  shoulder,  my 
best  friend  in  time  of  need ;  and,  as  good  fortune 
would  have  it,  I  had  not  been  out  more  than  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  before  I  treed  a  fat  coon,  and  in  the 
pulling  of  a  trigger  he  lay  dead  at  the  root  of  the 
tree.  I  soon  whipped  his  hairy  jacket  off  his  back, 
and  again  bent  my  steps  towards  the  shantee,  and 
walked  up  to  the  bar,  but  not  alone,  for  this  time  I 
had  half  a  dozen  of  my  constituents  at  my  heels.  I 
threw  down  the  coon  skin  upon  the  counter,  and 
called  for  a  quart,  and  Job,  though  busy  in  dealing 
out  rum,  forgot  to  point  at  his  chalked  rules  and 
regulations;  for  he  knew  that  a  coon  was  as  good  a 
legal  tender  for  a  quart  in  the  West  as  a  New  York 
shilling  any  day  in  the  year. 

My  constituents  now  flocked  about  me,  and  cried, 
''Huzza for  Crockett,"  ''Crockett  forever,"  and  find- 
ing the  tide  had  taken  a  turn,  I  told  them  several 
yarns  to  get  them  in  a  good  humor  ;  and  having  soon 
dispatched  the  value  of  the  coon,  I  went  out  and 
mounted  the  stump  without  opposition,  and  a  clear 
majority  of  the  voters  followed  me  to  hear  what  I 
had  to  offer  for  the  good  of  the  nation.  Before  I 
was  half   through  one  of   my  constituents    moved 


DAVY  CROCKETT.  249 

that  they  would  hear  the  balance  of  my  speech  after 
they  had  washed  down  the  first  part  with  some  more 
of  Job  Snelling's  extract  of  cornstalk  and  molasses, 
and  the  question  being  put,  it  was  carried  unani- 
mously. It  was  n't  considered  necessary  to  tell  the 
yeas  and  nays,  so  we  adjourned  to  the  shantee,  and 
on  the  way  I  began  to  reckon  that  the  fate  of  the 
nation  pretty  much  depended  upon  my  shooting  an- 
other coon. 

While  standing  at  the  bar,  feeling  sort  of  bashful 
while  Job's  rules  and  regulations  stared  me  in  the  face, 
I  cast  down  my  eyes,  and  discovered  one  end  of  the 
coon  skin  sticking  between  the  logs  that  supported 
the  bar.  Job  had  slung  it  there  in  the  hurry  of  busi- 
ness. I  gave  it  a  sort  of  quick  jerk,  and  it  followed 
my  hand  as  natural  as  if  I  had  been  the  rightful 
owner.  I  slapped  it  on  the  counter,  and  Job,  little 
dreaming  that  he  was  barking  up  the  wrong  tree, 
shoved  along  another  bottle,  which  my  constituents 
quickly  disposed  of  with  great  good  humor,  for  some 
of  them  saw  the  trick  ;  and  then  we  withdrew  to  the 
rostrum  to  discuss  the  affairs  of  the  nation. 

I  don't  know  how  it  was,  but  the  voters  soon  be- 
came dry  again,  and  nothing  would  do  but  we  must 
adjourn  to  the  shantee  ;  and  as  luck  would  have  it, 
the  coon  skin  was  still  sticking  between  the  logs,  as 
if  Job  had  flung  it  there  on  purpose  to  tempt  me.  I 
was  not  slow  in  raising  it  to  the  counter,  the  rum 
followed,  of  course,  and  I  wish  I  may  be  shot  if  I 
did  n't,  before  the  day  was  over,  get  ten  quarts  for 
the  same  identical  skin,  and  from  a  fellow,  too,  who 
in  those  parts  was  considered  as  sharp  as  a  steel 
trap  and  as  bright  as  a  pewter  button. 

This  joke  secured  me  my  election,  for  it  soon  cir- 


250  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Ciliated  like  smoke  among  my  constituents,  and  they 
allowed,  with  one  accord,  that  the  man  who  could 
^et  the  whip  hand  of  Job  Snelling  in  fair  trade, 
could  outwit  Old  Nick  himself,  and  was  the  real 
grit  for  them  in  Congress.  Job  was  by  no  means 
popular ;  he  boasted  of  always  being  wide  awake, 
and  that  any  one  who  could  take  him  in  was  free 
to  do  so,  for  he  came  from  a  stock  that,  sleeping  or 
waking,  had  always  one  eye  open,  and  the  other  not 
more  than  half  closed.  The  whole  family  were 
geniuses.  His  father  was  the  inventor  of  wooden 
nutmegs,  by  which  Job  said  he  might  have  made  a 
fortune,  if  he  had  only  taken  out  a  patent  and  kept 
the  business  in  his  own  hands  ;  his  mother,  Patience, 
manufactured  the  first  white  oak  pumpkin  seeds  of 
the  mammoth  kind,  and  turned  a  pretty  penny  the 
first  season  ;  and  his  aunt  Prudence  w^as  the  first  to 
discover  that  corn  husks,  steeped  into  tobacco  water, 
would  make  as  handsome  Spanish  wrappers  as  ever 
came  from  Havana,  and  that  oak  leaves  would  an- 
swer all  the  purpose  of  filling,  for  no  one  could  dis- 
cover the  difference  except  the  man  who  smoked 
them,  and  then  it  would  be  too  late  to  make  a  stir 
about  it.  Job  himself  bragged  of  having  made  some 
useful  discoveries,  the  most  profitable  of  which 
was  the  art  of  converting  mahogany  sawdust  into 
cayenne  pepper,  which  he  said  was  a  profitable 
and  safe  business  ;  for  the  people  have  been  so  long 
accustomed  to  having  dust  thrown  in  their  e3^es 
that  there  was  n't  much  danger  of  being  found  out. 

The  way  I  got  to  the  blind  side  of  the  Yankee 
merchant  was  pretty  generally  known  before  elec- 
tion day,  and  the  result  was  that  my  opponent 
might  as  well  have  whistled  jigs  to  a  milestone  as 


DAW  CROCKETT.  25  I 

attempt  to  beat  up  for  votes  in  that  district.  I  beat 
him  out  and  out,  quite  back  into  the  old  year,  and 
there  was  scarce  enough  left  of  him,  after  the  can- 
vass was  over,  to  make  a  small  grease  spot.  He  dis- 
appeared without  even  leaving  a  mark  behind  ;  and 
such  will  be  the  fate  of  Adam  Huntsman,  if  there  is 
a  fair  fight  and  no  gouging. 

After  the  election  was  over,  I  sent  Snelling  the 
price  of  the  rum,  but  took  good  care  to  keep  the 
fact  from  the  knowledge  of  my  constituents.  Job 
refused  the  money,  and  sent  me  word  that  it  did 
him  good  to  be  taken  in  occasionally,  as  it  served  to 
brighten  his  ideas  ;  but  I  afterwards  learnt  when  he 
found  out  the  trick  that  had  been  played  upon  him, 
he  put  all  the  rum  I  had  ordered  in  his  bill  against 
my  opponent,  who,  being  elated  with  the  speeches 
he  had  made  on  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  could  not 
descend  to  examine  into  the  particulars  of  a  bill  of  a 
vender  of  rum  in  the  small  way. 


11. 


EN    ROUTE    FOR    TEXAS. 

I  mounted  my  horse  and  pushed  forward  on  my 
road  to  Fulton.  When  I  reached  Washington,  a 
village  a  few  miles  from  the  Red  River,  I  rode  up  to 
the  Black  Bear  tavern,  when  the  following  convert 
sation  took  place  between  me  and  the  landlord, 
which  is  a  pretty  fair  sample  of  the  curiosity  of  some 
folks  :  — 

"Good  morning,  mister  —  I  don't  exactly  recol- 
lect your  name  now,"  said  the  landlord,  as  I  alighted. 

**  It  's  of  no  consequence,"  said  I. 


252  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"I  'm  pretty  sure  I  've  seen  you  somewhere." 

"  Very  likely  you  may.  I  've  been  there  fre- 
quently." 

"  I  was  sure  't  was  so  ;  but  strange  I  sl:oulcl  forget 
your  name,"  says  he. 

"  It  is  indeed  somewhat  strange  that  you  should 
forget  what  you  never  knew,"  says  I. 

''  It  is  unaccountable  strange.  It  's  what  I  'm  not 
often  in  the  habit  of,  I  assure  you.  I  have,  for  the 
most  part,  a  remarkably  detentive  memory.  In  the 
power  of  people  that  pass  along  this  way,  I  've 
scarce  ever  made,  as  the  doctors  say,  a  slapsiis  slin- 
kinn  of  this  kind  afore." 

*'  Eh  heh  ! "  I  shouted,  while  the  critter  con- 
tinued. 

"  Traveling  to  the  western  country,  I  presume, 
mister  } " 

"■  Presume  anything  you  please,  sir,"  said  I ;  "  but 
don't  trouble  me  with  your  presumptions." 

"O  Lord,  no,  sir  —  I  won't  do  that  ;  I  've  no  ideer 
of  that,  —  not  the  least  ideer  in  the  world,"  says 
he.  "I  suppose  you  've  been  to  the  westward  afore 
now  t " 

"  Well,  suppose  I  have  ?  " 

''Why,  on  that  supposition,  I  was  going  to  say 
you  must  be  pretty  well  —  that  is  to  say,  you  must 
know  something  about  the  place." 

"Eh  heh!"  I  ejaculated,  looking  sort  of  mazed 
full  in  his  face.    The  tarnal  critter  still  went  ahead. 

"  I  take  it  you  're  a  married  man,  mister  }  " 

"  Take  it  as  you  will,  that  is  no  affair  of  mine," 
says  I. 

''Well,  after  all,  a  married  life  is  the  most  hap- 
piest way  of  living  ;  don't  you  think  so,  mister?  " 


DAVY  CROCKETT.    "  253 

"Very  possible,"  says  I. 

"  I  conclude  you  have  a  family  of  children,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  reason  you  have  to  conclude 
so. 

"  Oh,  no  reason  in  the  world,  mister,  not  the 
least,"  says  he  ;  **but  I  thought  I  might  just  take 
the  liberty  to  make  the  presumption,  you  know ; 
that's  all,  sir.  I  take  it,  mister,  you  're  a  man  about 
my  age  ?  " 

"  Eh  heh  !  " 

"  How  old  do  you  call  yourself,  if  I  may  be  so 
bold  ?  " 

**  You  're  bold  enough,  the  devil  knows,"  says  I ; 
and  as  I  spoke  rather  sharp,  the  varment  seemed 
rather  staggered,  but  he  soon  recovered  himself,  and 
came  up  to  the  chalk  again. 

"  No  offense,  I  hope  —  I  —  I  —  I  —  would  n't  be 
thought  uncivil,  by  any  means  ;  I  always  calculate 
to  treat  everybody  with  civility." 

*'  You  have  a  very  strange  way  of  showing  it." 

"True,  as  you  say,  I  ginerally  take  my  own  way  in 
these  ere  matters.  Do  you  practice  law,  mister,  or 
farming,  or  mechanicals  .-*  " 

''  Perhaps  so,"  says  I. 

"Ah,  I  judge  so  ;  I  was  pretty  certain  it  must  be 
the  case.  Well,  it  's  as  good  business  as  any  there 
is  followed  nowadays." 

*'  Eh  heh  !  "  I  shouted,  and  my  lower  jaw  fell  in 
amazement  at  his  perseverance. 

"I  take  it  you've  money  at  interest,  mister.?" 
continued  the  varment,  without  allowing  himself 
time  to  take  breath. 

**  Would  it  be  of  any  particular  interest  to  you  to 
find  out  }  "  says  I. 


254  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"Oh,  not  at  all,  not  the  least  in  the  world,  sir; 
I  'm  not  at  all  inquisitive  about  other  people's  mat- 
ters ;  I  minds  my  own  business,  —  that  's  my  way." 

"  And  a  very  odd  way  you  have  of  doing  it,  too." 

"  I  've  been  thinking  what  persuasion  you  're  of, — ■ 
whether  you  're  a  Unitarian  or  Baptist,  or  whether 
you  belong  to  the  Methodisses." 

"  Well,  what 's  the  conclusion  }  " 

"  Why,  I  have  concluded  that  I  'm  pretty  near 
right  in  my  conjectures.  Well,  after  all,  I  'm  in- 
clined to  think  they  're  the  nearest  right  of  any  per- 
suasion—  though  some  folks  think  differently." 

"  Eh  heh  !  "  I  shouted  again. 

"As  to  pollyticks,  I  take  it,  you  —  that  is  to  say, 
I  suppose,  you  "  — 

"  Very  likely." 

"  Ah  !  I  could  have  sworn  it  was  so  from  the  mo- 
ment I  saw  you.  I  have  a  knack  at  finding  out  a 
man's  sentiments.  I  dare  say,  mister,  you  're  a  jus- 
tice in  your  own  country  .?  " 

"  And  if  I  may  return  the  compliment,  I  should 
say  you  *re  a  just  ass  everywhere."  But  this  time  I 
began  to  get  weary  of  his  impertinence,  and  led  my 
horse  to  the  trough  to  water,  but  the  darned  critter 
followed  me  up. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  he,  "  I  'm  in  the  commission  of 
the  peace,  to  be  sure  —  and  an  officer  in  the  militia, 
—  though,  between  you  and  I,  I  would  n't  wish  to 
boast  of  it." 

My  horse  having  finished  drinking,  I  put  one  foot 
in  the  stirrup,  and  was  preparing  to  mount.  "  Any 
more  inquiries  to  make  .''  "  said  I. 

"  Why,  no,  nothing  to  speak  on,"  said  he.  *'  When 
do  you  return,  mister  ?  " 


DAVY  CROCKETT.  255 

"About  the  time  I  come  back,"  said  I  ;  and,  leap- 
ing into  the  saddle,  galloped  off.  The  pestiferous 
v^arment  bawled  after  me,  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  — 

'*  Well,  I  shall  look  for  ye,  then.  I  hope  you  won't 
fail  to  call." 

Now,  who  in  all  natur  do  you  reckon  the  critter 
was  who  afforded  so  fine  a  sample  of  the  imper- 
tinent curiosity  that  some  people  have  to  pry  into 
other  people's  affairs  ? 

I  knew  him  well  enough  at  first  sight,  though  he 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  me.  It  was  no  other  than 
Job  Snelling,  the  manufacturer  of  cayenne  pepper 
out  of  mahogany  sawdust,  and  upon  whom  I  played 
the  trick  with  the  coon  skin.  I  pursued  my  journey 
to  Fulton,  and  laughed  heartily  to  think  wdiat  a 
swither  I  had  left  poor  Job  in,  at  not  gratifying  his 
curiosity  ;  for  I  knew  he  was  one  of  those  fellows 
A^ho  would  peep  down  your  throat  just  to  ascertain 
what  you  had  eaten  for  dinner. 


III. 


THE   GAME    OF    THIMBLERIG. 

I  saw  a  small  cluster  of  passengers  at  one  end  of 
the  boat,  and  hearing  an  occasional  burst  of  laughter, 
thinks  I,  there  's  some  sport  started  in  that  quarter, 
and  having  nothing  better  to  do,  I  '11  go  in  for  my 
share  of  it.  Accordingly,  I  drew  nigh  to  the  cluster, 
and  seated  on  the  chest  was  a  tall,  lank,  sea-sarpent 
looking  blackleg,  who  had  crawled  over  from  Natchez 
under  the  hill,  and  was  amusing  the  passengers  with 
his  skill  at  thimblerig  ;  at  the  same  time  he  was 
picking  up  their  shillings  just  about  as  expeditiously 


256  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

as  a  hungry  gobbler  would  a  pint  of  corn.  He  was 
doing  what  might  be  called  an  average  business  in  a 
small  way,  and  lost  no  time  in  gathering  up  the  frag- 
ments. 

I  watched  the  whole  process  for  some  time,  and 
found  that  he  had  adopted  the  example  set  by  the 
old  tempter  himself,  to  get  the  weathergage  of  us 
poor  weak  mortals.  He  made  it  a  point  to  let  his 
victims  win  always  the  first  stake,  that  they  might 
be  tempted  to  go  ahead ;  and  then,  when  they  least 
suspected  it,  he  would  come  down  upon  them  like  a 
hurricane  in  a  cornfield,  sweeping  all  before  it. 

I  stood  looking  on,  seeing  him  pick  up  the  chicken 
feed  from  the  greenhorns,  and  thought  if  men  are 
such  darned  fools  as  to  be  cheated  out  of  their  hard 
earnings  by  a  fellow  who  has  just  brains  enough  to 
pass  a  pea  from  one  thimble  to  another,  with  such 
sleight  of  hand  that  you  could  not  tell  under  which 
he  had  deposited  it,  it  is  not  astonishing  that  the 
magician  of  Kinderhook  should  play  thimblerig  upon 
the  big  figure,  and  attempt  to  cheat  the  whole  na- 
tion. I  thought  that  "the  Government"  was  play- 
ing the  same  game  with  the  deposites,  and  with  such 
address,  too,  that  before  long  it  will  be  a  hard  matter 
to  find  them  under  any  of  the  thimbles  where  it  is 
supposed  they  have  been  originally  placed. 

The  thimble  conjurer  saw  me  looking  on,  and, 
eyeing  me  as  if  he  thought  I  would  be  a  good  sub- 
ject, said  carelessly,  '*  Come,  stranger,  won't  you 
take  a  chance  t  "  the  whole  time  passing  the  pea 
from  one  thimble  to  the  other,  by  way  of  throwing 
out  a  bait  for  the  gudgeons  to  bite  at. 

"  I  never  gamble,  stranger,"  says  I  ;  ''  principled 
against  it ;  think  it  a  slippery  way  of  getting  through 
the  world,  at  best." 


DAVY  CROCKETT.  257 

"  Them  are  my  sentiments  to  a  notch,"  says  he ; 
"but  this  is  not  gambling,  by  no  means.  A  Httle 
innocent  pastime,  nothing  more.  Better  take  a  hack 
by  way  of  trying  your  luck  at  guessing."  All  this 
time  he  continued  working  with  his  thimbles  ;  first 
putting  the  pea  under  one  which  was  plain  to  be 
seen,  and  then,  uncovering  it,  would  show  that  the 
pea  was  there  ;  he  would  then  put  it  under  the 
second  thimble,  and  do  the  same,  and  then  under 
the  third  :  all  of  which  he  did  to  show  how  easy  it 
would  be  to  guess  where  the  pea  was  deposited,  if 
one  would  only  keep  a  sharp  lookout. 

'*  Come,  stranger,"  says  he  to  me  again,  "you  had 
better  take  a  chance.  Stake  a  trifle,  I  don't  care 
how  small,  just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing." 

*'  I  am  principled  against  betting  money,"  says  I, 
"  but  I  don't  mind  going  in  for  drinks  for  the  pres- 
ent company,  for  I  'm  as  dry  as  one  of  little  Isaac 
Hill's  regular  set  of  speeches." 

"  I  admire  your  principles,"  says  he,  "and  to  show 
that  I  play  with  these  here  thimbles  just  for  the  sake 
of  pastime  I  will  take  that  bet,  though  I  am  a  whole 
hog  temperance  man.     Just  say  when,  stranger." 

He  continued  all  the  time  slipping  the  pea  from 
one  thimble  to  another ;  my  eye  was  as  keen  as  a 
lizard's,  and  when  he  stopped  I  cried  out,  "  Now, 
the  pea  is  under  the  middle  thimble."  He  was  go- 
ing to  raise  it  to  show  that  it  was  n't  there,  when 
I  interfered,  and  said,  "  Stop,  if  you  please,"  and 
raised  it  myself,  and  sure  enough  the  pea  was  there  ; 
but  it  mought  have  been  otherwise  if  he  had  had 
the  uncovering  of  it. 

"Sure  enough,  you've  won  the  bet,"  says  he. 
^^  Ycu  've  a  sharp  eye,  but  I  don't  care  if  I  give  you 

17 


258  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

another  chance.  Let  us  go  fifty  cents  this  bout ; 
I  'm  sure  you  '11  win." 

*'  Then  you  're  a  darned  fool  to  bet,  stranger," 
says  I  ;  "  and  since  that  is  the  case,  it  would  be  lit- 
tle better  than  picking  your  pocket  to  bet  with  you  ; 
so  I  '11  let  it  alone." 

"  I  don't  mind  running  the  risk,"  said  he. 

"  But  I  do,"  says  I ;  *'  and  since  I  always  let  well 
enough  alone,  and  I  have  had  just  about  glory 
enough  for  one  day,  let  us  all  go  to  the  bar  and  liq- 
uor." 

This  called  forth  a  loud  laugh  at  the  thimble  con- 
jurer's expense ;  and  he  tried  hard  to  induce  me  to 
take  just  one  chance  more,  but  he  mought  just  as 
well  have  sung  psalms  to  a  dead  horse,  for  my  mind 
was  made  up  ;  and  I  told  him  that  I  looked  upon 
gambling  as  about  the  dirtiest  way  that  a  man  could 
adopt  to  get  through  this  dirty  world  ;  and  that  I 
would  never  bet  anything  beyond  a  quart  of  whisky 
upon  a  rifle  shot,  which  I  considered  a  legal  bet,  and 
gentlemanly  and  rational  amusement.  *'  But  all  this 
cackling,"  says  I,  "  makes  me  very  thirsty,  so  let  us 
adjourn  to  the  bar  and  liquor." 

He  gathered  up  his  thimbles,  and  the  whole  com- 
pany followed  us  to  the  bar,  laughing  heartily  at  the 
conjurer;  for,  as  he  had  won  some  of  their  money, 
they  were  sort  of  delighted  to  see  him  beaten  with 
his  own  cudgel.  He  tried  to  laugh,  too,  but  his  laugh 
was  n't  at  all  pleasant,  and  rather  forced.  The  bar- 
keeper placed  a  big-bellied  bottle  before  us  ;  and 
after  mixing  our  liquor,  I  was  called  on  for  a  toast 
by  one  of  the  company,  a  chap  just  about  as  rough 
hewn  as  if  he  had  been  cut  out  of  a  gum  log  with  a 
broad-axe,  and  sent  into  the  market  without  even  be- 


DAVY  CROCKETT.  259 

ing  smoothed  off  with  a  jack  plane,  — one  of  them 
chaps  who,  in  their  journey  through  Ufe,  are  always 
ready  for  a  fight  or  a  frolic,  and  don't  care  the  toss  of 
a  copper  which. 

*'  Well,  gentlemen,"  says  I,  "  being  called  upon 
for  a  toast,  and  being  in  a  slave-holding  State,  in 
order  to  avoid  giving  offense  and  running  the  risk 
of  being  lynched,  it  may  be  necessary  to  premise 
that  I  am  neither  an  abolitionist  nor  a  colonization- 
ist,  but  simply  Colonel  Crockett  of  Tennessee,  now 
bound  for  Texas."  When  they  heard  my  name  they 
gave  three  cheers  for  Colonel  Crockett ;  and  silence 
being  restored,  I  continued,  "  Now,  gentlemen,  I 
will  offer  you  a  toast,  hoping,  after  what  I  have 
stated,  that  it  will  give  offense  to  no  one  present  ; 
but  should  I  be  mistaken,  I  must  imitate  the  '  old 
Roman,'  and  take  the  responsibility.  I  offer,  gen- 
tlemen. The  abolition  of  slavery :  let  the  work  first 
besfin  in  the  two  Houses  of  Consfress.  There  are  no 
slaves  in  the  country  more  servile  than  the  party 
slaves  in  Congress.  The  wink  or  the  nod  of  their 
masters  is  all-sufficient  for  the  accomplishment  of 
the  most  dirty  work." 

They  drank  the  toast  in  a  style  that  satisfied  me 
that  the  little  Magician  might  as  well  go  to  a  pigsty 
for  wool  as  to  beat  round  in  that  part  for  voters  : 
they  were  all  either  for  Judge  White  or  Old  Tippe- 
canoe. The  thimble  conjurer,  having  asked  the  bar- 
keeper how  much  there  was  to  pay,  was  told  that 
there  were  sixteen  smallers,  which  amounted  to  one 
dollar.  He  was  about  to  lay  down  the  blunt,  but 
not  in  Benton's  metallic  currency,  which  I  find  has 
already  become  as  shy  as  honesty  with  an  office- 
holder, but  he  planked  down  one  of  Biddle's  notes, 


260  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

when  I  interfered,  and  told  him  that  the  barkeeper 
had  made  a  mistake. 

"  How  so  ? "  demanded  the  barkeeper. 

"How  much  do  you  charge,"  said  I,  "when  you 
retail  your  liquor  ?  '* 

"A  fip  a  glass." 

**  Well,  then,"  says  I,  *'  as  Thimblerig  here,  who 
belongs  to  the  temperance  society,  took  it  in  whole- 
sale, I  reckon  you  can  afford  to  let  him  have  it  at 
half  price  ?  '^ 

Now  as  they  had  all  noticed  that  the  conjurer 
went  what  is  called  the  heavy  wet,  they  laughed  out- 
right, and  we  heard  no  more  about  temperance  from 
that  quarter.  When  we  returned  to  the  deck,  the 
blackleg  set  to  work  with  his  thimbles  again,  and 
bantered  me  to  bet ;  but  I  told  him  that  it  was 
against  my  principle,  and  as  I  had  already  reaped 
glory  enough  for  one  day  I  would  just  let  well 
enough  alone  for  the  present.  If  the  *'  old  Roman  " 
had  done  the  same  in  relation  to  the  deposites  and 
^' the  monster,"  we  should  have  escaped  more  diffi- 
culties than  all  the  cunning  of  the  Little  Flying 
Dutchman,  and  Dick  Johnson  to  boot,  will  be  able 
to  repair.  I  should  n't  be  astonished  if  the  new 
Vice-President's  head  should  get  wool  gathering 
before  they  have  half  unraveled  the  knotted  and 
twisted  thread  of  perplexities  that  the  old  General 
has  spun,  —  in  which  case  his  charming  spouse  will 
rio  doubt  be  delighted,  for  then  they  will  be  all  in 
the  family  way.  What  a  handsome  display  they  will 
make  in  the  White  House  !  No  doubt  the  first  act 
of  Congress  will  be  to  repeal  the  duties  on  Cologne 
and  Lavender  waters,  for  they  will  be  in  great  de- 
mand about  the  Palace,  particularly  in  the  dog-days. 


DAVY  CROCKETT.  26l 


IV. 


THE     "  LITTLE   MAGICIAN." 

One  of  the  passengers,  hearing  that  I  was  on 
board  of  the  boat,  came  up  to  me  and  began  to  talk 
about  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  and  said  a  good  deal 
in  favor  of  "  the  Magician,"  and  wished  to  hear 
what  I  had  to  say  against  him.  He  talked  loud, 
which  is  the  way  with  all  politicians  educated  in  the 
Jackson  school ;  and  by  his  slang-whanging  drew  a 
considerable  crowd  around  us.  Now  this  was  the 
very  thing  I  wanted,  as  I  knew  I  should  not  soon 
have  another  opportunity  of  making  a  political 
speech  ;  he  no  sooner  asked  to  hear  what  I  had  to 
say  against  his  candidate  than  I  let  him  have  it, 
strong  and  hot  as  he  could  take,  I  tell  you. 

"  What  have  I  to  say  against  Martin  Van  Buren  ? 
He  is  an  artful,  cunning,  intriguing,  selfish,  specu- 
lating lawyer,  who,  by  holding  lucrative  offices  for 
more  than  half  his  life,  has  contrived  to  amass  a 
princely  fortune,  and  is  now  seeking  the  presidency, 
principally  for  sordid  gain,  and  to  gratify  the  most 
selfish  ambition.  His  fame  is  unknown  to  the  his- 
tory of  cur  county,  except  as  a  most  adroit  poHtical 
manager  and  successful  office-hunter.  He  never 
took  up  arms  in  defense  of  his  country,  in  her  days 
of  darkness  and  peril.  He  never  contributed  a  dol- 
lar of  his  surplus  wealth  to  assist  her  in  her  hours 
of  greatest  want  and  weakness.  Office  and  money 
have  been  the  gods  of  his  idolatry  ;  and  at  their 
shrines  has  the  ardent  worship  of  his  heart  been  de- 
voted, from  the  earliest  days  of  his  manhood  to  the 
present  moment.     He  can  lay  no  claim  to  preemi- 


262  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

nent  services  as  a  statesman  ;  nor  has  he  ever  given 
any  evidences  of  superior  talent,  except  as  a  poUtical 
electioneerer  and  intriguer.  As  a  politician,  he  is 
'all  things  to  all  men.'  He  is  for  internal  improve- 
ment, and  against  it  ;  for  the  tariff,  and  against  it ; 
for  the  bank  monopoly,  and  against  it ;  for  the  abo- 
lition of  slavery,  and  against  it  ;  and  for  anything 
else,  and  against  anything  else,  just  as  he  can  best 
promote  his  popularity,  and  subserve  his  own  private 
interest.  He  is  so  totally  destitute  of  moral  cour- 
age that  he  never  dares  to  give  an  opinion  upon  any 
important  question  until  he  first  finds  out  whether 
it  will  be  popular  or  not.  He  is  celebrated  as  the 
'Little  Non-Committal  Magician,'  because  he  en- 
lists on  no  side  of  any  question  until  he  discovers 
which  is  the  strongest  party  ;  and  then  always  moves 
in  so  cautious,  sly,  and  secret  a  manner  that  he  can 
change  sides  at  any  time  as  easily  as  a  juggler  or  a 
magician  can  play  off  his  arts  of  legerdemain. 

"Who  is  Martin  Van  Buren  .^  He  is  the  candi- 
date of  the  office-holders,  and  office-expectants,  who 
nominated  him  for  the  presidency  at  a  convention 
assembled  in  the  city  of  Baltimore,  in  May  last. 
The  first  account  we  have  of  his  political  life  is  while 
he  was  a  member  of  the  Senate  of  New  York,  at 
the  time  when  Mr.  Clinton  was  nominated  as  the 
federal  candidate  for  the  presidency,  in  opposition 
to  Mr.  Madison.  The  support  he  then  gave  Mr. 
Clinton  afforded  abundant  evidence  of  that  spirit  of 
opposition  to  the  institutions  of  his  country  which 
was  prominently  developed  in  the  conduct  of  those 
with  whom  he  was  united.  Shortly  after  the  suc- 
cess of  Mr.  Madison,  and  during  the  prosecution  of 
the  war,  Rufus  King,  of  New  York  (for  whom  Mr. 


BAVV  CROCKETT.  263 

Van  Buren  voted),  was  elected  to  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States,  avowedly  opposed  to  the  administra- 
tion. Upon  his  entrance  into  that  body,  instead  of 
devoting  his  energies  to  maintain  the  war,  he  com- 
menced a  tirade  of  abuse  against  the  administration 
for  having  attempted  relief  to  the  oppressed  seamen 
of  our  gallant  navy,  who  had  been  compelled  by 
British  violence  to  arm  themselves  against  their 
country,  their  firesides,  and  their  friends-  Thus 
Martin  Van  Buren  countenanced  by  his  vote  in  the 
Senate  of  New  York  an  opposition  to  that  war, 
which,  a  second  time,  convinced  Great  Britain  that 
Amicricans  could  not  be  awed  into  bondage  and 
subjection. 

"  Subsequent  to  this  time,  Mr.  Van  Buren  became 
himself  a  member  of  the  United  States  Senate,  and, 
while  there,  opposed  every  proposition  to  improve  the 
West,  or  to  add  to  her  numerical  strength. 

"  He  voted  against  the  continuance  of  the  national 
road  through  Ohio,  Indiana,  Illinois,  and  against  ap- 
propriations for  its  preservation, 

'*  He  voted  against  the  graduation  of  the  price  of 
the  public  lands. 

"  He  voted  against  ceding  the  refuse  lands  to  the 
States  in  which  they  lie. 

"  He  voted  against  making  donations  of  the  lands 
to  actual  settlers. 

"  He  again  voted  against  ceding  the  refuse  lands, 
not  worth  twenty-five  cents  per  acre,  to  the  new 
States  for  purposes  of  education  and  internal  im- 
provement. 

*' He  voted  <2^^z;/i-^  the  bill  providing  'settlement 
and  preemption  rights '  to  those  who  had  assisted 
in   opening   and    improving   the    western    country, 


264  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

and  thus  deprived  many  an  honest  poor  man  of  a 
home. 

"He  voted  against  donations  of  land  to  Ohio,  to 
prosecute  the  Miami  Canal  ;  and,  although  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Senate,  he  was  not  present  when  the  vote 
was  taken  upon  the  engrossment  of  the  bill  giving 
land  to  Indiana  for  her  Wabash  and  Erie  Canal,  and 
was  known  to  have  opposed  it  in  all  its  stages. 

"He  voted  in  favor  of  erecting  toll  gates  on  the 
national  road  ;  thus  demanding  a  tribute  from  the 
West  for  the  right  to  pass  upon  her  own  highways, 
constructed  out  of  her  own  money,  —  a  thing  never 
heard  of  before. 

"  After  his  term  of  service  had  expired  in  the 
Senate,  he  was  elected  Governor  of  New  York,  by 
a  plurality  of  votes.  He  was  afterwards  sent  to 
England  as  minister  plenipotentiary,  and  upon  his 
return  was  elected  Vice-President  of  the  United 
States,  which  office  he  now  holds,  and  from  which 
the  office-holders  are  seeking  to  transfer  him  to  the 
presidency." 

My  speech  was  received  with  great  applause,  and 
the  politician,  finding  that  I  was  better  acquainted 
with  his  candidate  than  he  was  himself,  for  I  wrote 
his  life,  shut  his  fly  trap,  and  turned  on  his  heel 
without  •saying  a  word.  He  found  that  he  had 
barked  up  the  wrong  tree.  I  afterward  learnt  that 
he  was  a  mail  contractor  in  those  parts,  and  that  he 
also  had  large  dealings  in  the  land  office,  and  there- 
fore thought  it  necessary  to  chime  in  with  his  penny 
whistle,  in  the  universal  chorus.  There  's  a  large 
band  of  the  same  description,  but  I  'm  thinking 
Uncle  Sam  will  some  day  find  out  that  he  has  paid 
too  much  for  the  piper. 


J.   PROCTOR  KNOTT. 


I  AM  conscious  of  many  omissions  in  this  attempt  to  illustrate  the 
humorous  characteristics  of  Southern  life  ;  but  these  omissions  would 
be  inexcusable  if  they  should  include  Proctor  Knott's  famous  "  Du- 
luth  Speech."  It  made  a  great  impression  on  the  occasion  of  its 
production  in  the  House,  and  has  since  stood  the  test  of  time,  being 
still  in  greater  demand  than  any  other  congressional  document.  In- 
deed, as  2.  jell  d'esp7'it  no  less  than  a  current  hit,  it  possesses  an  en- 
during title  to  the  merit  claimed  for  it,  of  being  the  most  quaint  and 
genial  effusion  ever  delivered  before  a  deliberative  body.  Although 
carefully  elaborated,  it  is  replete  with  Southernisms.  Its  identity 
could  nowhere  be  mistaken.  It  is  essentially  an  offspring  of  the 
imagination  and  intellect,  the  humor  of  the  South. 

The  Hon.  J.  Proctor  Knott  was  born  near  Lebanon,  Kentucky, 
August  29,  1830.  He  received  a  liberal  education,  and  had  been  ad- 
mitted to  the  bar  before  reaching  his  majority,  beginning  practice  in 
Missouri,  whither  he  had  removed  on  quitting  school.  His  success- 
was  rapid  and  brilliant,  so  much  so  that,  after  serv^ing  a  term  in  the 
Legislature,  he  was,  in  1859,  appointed  Attorney-General  of  the  State, 
In  1862  he  was  elected  by  the  people  to  this  office  ;  but  a  year  later 
he  returned  to  his  old  home  in  Kentucky,  where  he  has  since  resided. 
He  was  elected  a  Representative  in  Congress  from  his  district  in 
1867,  and,  with  the  exception  of  two  terras  of  voluntary  retirement, 
has  served  continuously  ever  since.  During  the  44th,  45th,  and  46th 
Congresses,  he  was  chairman  of  the  Judiciary  Comm-ittee,.  the  first  law 
position  of  the  House. 

Mr.  Knott,  who  in  many  respects  recalls  the  versatile  and  brilliant 
Thomas  Corwin  of  other  days,  is,  as  Mr.  Corwin  used  to  be,  a  little 
ashamed  of  his  facetious  performances.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  he 
has  done  what  he  could  to  blot  out  the  memcvry  of  "  Duluth."  An 
able  and  learned  jurist,  an  industrious,  practical  legislator  with  a  rare 
turn  for  the  solemnities  and  solidarities  of  the  public  business,  the 
statesman  is  disposed  to  resent  the  imputation  of  being  a  humorist. 
But,  as  nothing  could  suppress  the  exquisite  Sdiire  of  the  utterancCr 


266  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

so  nothing  can  obscure  the  shine  and  sparkle  it  has  left  behind  it  on 
the  dull  and  musty  record  of  the  debates  of  Congress. 

Mr.  Knott  is  as  skillful  with  his  pencil  as  with  his  tongue  and  pen  ; 
among  his  familiars  a  most  genial  companion,  though  somewhat 
austere  in  his  intercourse  with  the  larger  public  ;  temperate  in  his  ex- 
pression, but  of  opinions  inflexible  ;  and  respected  wherever  he  is 
known  as  one  of  the  most  upright  and  conscientious  of  our  public 
men. 

The  House  having  under  consideration  the  joint 
resolution  (S.  R.  No.  ii)  extending  the  time  to  con- 
struct a  railroad  from  the  St.  Croix  river  or  lake  to 
the  west  end  of  Lake  Superior  and  to  Bayfield  — 

Mr.  Knott  said  :  — 

Mr.  Speaker  :  If  I  could  be  actuated  by  any  con- 
ceivable inducement  to  betray  the  sacred  trust  re- 
posed in  me  by  those  to  whose  generous  confidence 
I  am  indebted  for  the  honor  of  a  seat  on  this  floor ; 
if  I  could  be  influenced  by  any  possible  consideration 
to  become  instrumental  in  giving  away,  in  violation 
of  their  known  wishes,  any  portion  of  their  interest 
in  the  public  domain  for  the  mere  promotion  of  any 
railroad  enterprise  whatever,  I  should  certainly  feel 
a  strong  inclination  to  give  this  measure  my  most 
earnest  and  hearty  support  ;  for  I  am  assured  that 
its  success  would  materially  enhance  the  pecuniary 
prosperity  of  some  of  the  most  vakied  friends  I  have 
on  earth,  —  friends  for  whose  accommodation  I  would 
be  willing  to  make  almost  any  sacrifice  not  involv- 
ing my  personal  honor  or  my  fidelity  as  the  trustee 
of  an  express  trust.  And  that  fact  of  itself  would 
be  sufficient  to  countervail  almost  any  objection  I 
might  entertain  to  the  passage  of  this  bill  not  in- 
spired by  an  imperative  and  inexorable  sense  of 
public  duty. 

But,  independent  of  the  seductive  influences  of  pri- 


y.   PROCTOR  KNOTT.  26/ 

vate  friendship,  to  which  I  admit  I  am,  perhaps,  as 
susceptible  as  any  of  the  gentlemen  I  see  around 
me,  the  intrinsic  merits  of  the  measure  itself  are  of 
such  an  extraordinary  character  as  to  commend  it 
most  strongly  to  the  favorable  consideration  of  ev- 
ery member  of  this  House,  myself  not  excepted,  not- 
withstanding my  constituents,  in  whose  behalf  alone 
I  am  acting  here,  would  not  be  benefited  by  its  pas- 
sage one  particle  more  than  they  would  be  by  a 
project  to  cultivate  an  orange  grove  on  the  bleakest 
summit  of  Greenland's  icy  mountains.     [Laughter.] 

Now,  sir,  as  to  those  great  trunk  lines  of  railway, 
spanning  the  continent  from  ocean  to  ocean,  I  con- 
fess my  mind  has  never  been  fully  made  up.  It  is 
true  thev  mav  afford  some  triflins:  advantages  to 
local  traffic,  and  they  may  even  in  time  become  the 
channels  of  a  more  extended  commerce.  Yet  I  have 
never  been  thoroughly  satisfied  either  of  the  neces- 
sity or  expediency  of  projects  promising  such  meagre 
results  to  the  great  body  of  our  people.  But  wilh 
regard  to  the  transcendent  merits  of  the  gigantic  en- 
terprise contemplated  in  this  bill  I  never  entertained 
the  shadow  of  a  doubt.      [Laughter.] 

Years  ago,  when  I  first  heard  that  there  was 
somewhere  in  the  vast  terra  incognita^  somewhere  in 
the  bleak  regions  of  the  great  Northwest,  a  stream 
of  water  known  to  the  nomadic  inhabitants  of  the 
neighborhood  as  the  river  St.  Croix,  I  became  satis- 
fied that  the  construction  of  a  railroad  from  that 
raging  torrent  to  some  point  in  the  civilized  world 
was  essential  to  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  the 
American  people,  if  not  absolutely  indispensable  ^o 
the  perpetuity  of  republican  institutions  on  this  con- 
tinent.    [Great  laughter.]     I  felt  instinctively  thsr 


268  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

the  boundless  resources  of  that  prolific  region  of 
sand  and  pine  shrubbery  would  never  be  fully  devel- 
oped without  a  railroad  constructed  and  equipped  at 
the  expense  of  the  Government,  and  perhaps  not 
then.  [Laughter.]  I  had  an  abiding  presentiment 
that,  some  day  or  other,  the  people  of  this  whole 
country,  irrespective  of  party  afifiliations,  regardless 
of  sectional  prejudices,  and  "without  distinction  of 
race,  color,  or  previous  condition  of  servitude," 
would  rise  in  their  majesty,  and  demand  an  outlet 
for  the  enormous  agricultural  productions  of  those 
vast  and  fertile  pine  barrens,  drained  in  the  rainy 
season  by  the  surging  waters  of  the  turbid  St.  Croix. 
[Great  laughter.] 

These  impressions,  derived  simply  and  solely 
from  the  "eternal  fitness  of  things,"  w^ere  not  only 
strengthened  by  the  interesting  and  eloquent  debate 
on  this  bill,  to  which  I  listened  with  so  much  pleas- 
ure the  other  day,  but  intensified,  if  possible,  as  I 
read  over  this  morning  the  lively  colloquy  which 
took  place  on  that  occasion,  as  I  find  it  reported  in 
last  Friday's  *'  Globe."  I  will  ask  the  indulgence  of 
the  House  while  I  read  a  few  short  passages,  which 
are  sufficient,  in  my  judgment,  to  place  the  merits 
of  the  great  enterprise  contemplated  in  the  measure 
now  under  discussion  beyond  all  possible  contro- 
versy. 

The  honorable  gentleman  from  Minnesota  [Mr. 
Wilson],  who,  I  believe,  is  managing  this  bill,  in 
speaking  of  the  character  of  the  country  through 
which  this  railroad  is  to  pass,  says  this:  — 

"  We  want  to  have  the  timber  brought  to  us  as  cheaply 
as  possible.  Now,  if  you  tie  up  the  lands  in  this  way,  so 
ihat  no  title  can  be  obtained  to  them,  — for  no  settler  will 


y.  PROCTOR  KNOTT.  269 

go  on  these  lands,  for  he  cannot  make  a  living,  — you  de- 
prive us  of  the  benefit  of  that  timber." 

Now,  sir,  I  would  not  have  it  by  any  means  in- 
ferred from  this  that  the  gentleman  from  Minnesota 
would  insinuate  that  the  people  out  in  his  section 
desire  this  timber  merely  for  the  purpose  of  fencing 
up  their  farms,  so  that  their  stock  may  not  wander 
off  and  die  of  starvation  among  the  bleak  hills  of  the 
St.  Croix.  [Laughter.]  I  read  it  for  no  such  pur- 
pose, sir,  and  make  no  such  comment  on  it  myself. 
In  corroboration  of  this  statement  of  the  gentleman 
from  Minnesota,  I  find  this  testimony  given  by  the 
honorable  gentleman  from  Wisconsin  [Mr.  Wash- 
burn].   Speaking  of  these  same  lands,  he  says,  — 

"  Under  the  bill,  as  amended  by  my  friend  from  Min- 
nesota, nine  tenths  of  the  land  is  open  to  actual  settlers 
at  $2.50  per  acre  ;  the  remaining  one  tenth  is  pine-tim- 
bered land,  that  is  not  fit  for  settlement,  and  never  will 
be  settled  upon  ;  but  the  timber  will  be  cut  off.  I  admit 
that  it  is  the  most  valuable  portion  of  the  grant,  for  most 
of  the  grant  is  not  valuable.  It  is  quite  valueless  ;  and  if 
you  put  in  this  amendment  of  the  gentleman  from  In- 
diana, you  may  as  v/ell  just  kill  the  bill,  for  no  man  and 
no  company  will  take  the  grant  and  build  the  road." 

I  simply  pause  here  to  ask  some  gentleman  better 
versed  in  the  science  of  mathematics  than  I  am  to 
tell  me,  if  the  timbered  lands  are  in  fact  the  most 
valuable  portion  of  that  section  of  country,  and  they 
would  be  entirely  valueless  without  the  timber  that 
is  on  them,  what  the  remainder  of  the  land  is  worth 
which  has  no  timber  on  it  at  all.     [Laughter.] 

But  further  on  I  find  a  most  entertaining  and  in- 
structive interchange  of  views  between  the  gentle- 
man  from  Arkansas  [Mr.   Rogers],  the   gentleman 


2  JO  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

from  Wisconsin  [Mr.  Wasburn],  and  the  gentleman 
from  Maine  [Mr.  Peters]  upon  the  subject  of  pine 
lands  generally,  which  I  will  tax  the  patience  of  the 
House  to  read  :  — 

*'Mr.  Rogers.  Will  the  gentleman  allow  me  to  ask  him 
a  question  ? 

"  Mr.  Washburn,  of  Wisconsin.     Certainly. 

*-  Mr.  Rogers.  Are  these  pine  lands  entirely  worthless 
except  for  timber .'' 

"  Mr.  Washburn,  of  Wisconsin.  They  are  generally 
worthless  for  any  other  purpose.  I  am  perfectly  familiar 
with  that  subject.  These  lands  are  not  valuable  for  pur- 
poses of  settlement. 

"  Mr.  Farnsworth.  They  will  be  after  the  timber  is 
taken  off. 

"  Mr.  Washburn,  of  Wisconsin.     No,  sir. 

"  Mr.  Rogers.  I  want  to  know  the  character  of  these 
pine  lands. 

"  Mr.  Washburn,  of  Wisconsin.  They  are  generally 
sandy,  barren  lands.  My  friend  from  the  Green  Bay  dis^ 
trict  [Mr.  Sawj'er]  is  himself  perfectly  familiar  with  this 
question,  and  he  will  bear  me  out  in  what  I  say,  that  these 
pine-timber  lands  are  not  adapted  to  settlement. 

"  Mr.  Rogers.  The  pine  lands  to  which  I  am  accus- 
tomed are  generally  very  good.  What  I  want  to  know  is, 
what  is  the  difference  between  our  pine  lands  and  your 
pine  lands  ? 

"  Mr.  Washburn,  of  Wisconsin.  The  pine  timber  of 
Wisconsin  generally  grows  upon  barren,  sandy  land.  The 
gentleman  from  Maine  [Mr.  Peters],  who  is  familiar  with 
pine  lands,  will,  I  have  no  doubt,  say  that  pine  timber 
grows  generally  upon  the  most  barren  lands. 

"  Mr.  Peters.  As  a  general  thing  pine  lands  are  not 
worth  much  for  cultivation." 

And  further  on  I  find  this  pregnant  question,  the 


J.   PROCTOR  KNOTT.  27 1 

joint  production  of  the  two   gentlemen   from  Wis- 
consin :  — 

"Mr.  Paine.  Does  my  friend  from  Indiana  suppose 
that  in  any  event  settlers  will  occupy  and  cultivate  these 
pine  lands  ? 

"  Mr,  Washburn,  of  Wisconsin.     Particularly  without 

a  railroad  ? " 

Yes,  sir,  "  particularly  without  a  railroad."  It  will 
be  asked  after  a  while,  I  am  afraid,  if  settlers  will  go 
anywhere  unless  the  Government  builds  a  railroad 
for  them  to  go  on.      [Laughter.] 

I  desire  to  call  attention  to  only  one  more  state- 
ment, which  I  think  sufficient  to  settle  the  question. 
It  is  one  made  by  the  gentleman  from  Wiconsin 
[Mr.  Paine],  who  says,  — 

"  These  lands  will  be  abandoned  for  the  present.  It 
may  be  that  at  some  remote  period  there  will  spring  up 
in  that  re2:ion  a  new  kind  of  as^riculture,  which  will  cause 
a  demand  for  these  particular  lands  ;  and  they  may  then 
come  into  use  and  be  valuable  for  agricultural  purposes. 
But  I  know,  and  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  my  friend 
from  Indiana  understands,  that  for  the  present,  and  for 
many  years  to  come,  these  pine  lands  can  have  no  pos- 
sible value  other  than  that  arising  from  the  pine  timber 
which  stands  on  them." 

Now,  sir,  who,  after  listening  to  this  emphatic  and 
unequivocal  testimony  of  these  intelligent,  competent, 
and  able-bodied  witnesses,  [laughter],  who  that  is 
not  as  incredulous  as  St.  Thomas  himself,  will  doubt 
for  a  moment  that  the  Goshen  of  America  is  to  be 
found  in  the  sandy  valleys  and  upon  the  pine-clad 
hills  of  the  St,  Croix  ?  [Laughter.]  Who  will  have 
the  hardihood   to  rise   in   his   seat  on  this  floor  and 


2/2  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

assert  that,  excepting  the  pine  bushes,  the  entire 
region  would  not  produce  vegetation  enough  in  ten 
years  to  fatten  a  grasshopper?  [Great  laughter.] 
Where  is  the  patriot  who  is  willing  that  his  country 
shall  incur  the  peril  of  remaining  another  day  with- 
out the  amplest  railroad  connection  with  such  an  in- 
exhaustible mine  of  agricultural  wealth  ?  [Laughter.] 
Who  wdll  answer  for  the  consequences  of  abandon- 
ing a  great  and  warlike  people,  in  possession  of  a 
country  like  that,  to  brood  over  the  indifference  and 
neglect  of  their  Government .''  [Laughter.]  How 
long  would  it  be  before  they  would  take  to  studying 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  hatching  out 
the  damnable  heresy  of  secession  }  How  long  be- 
fore the  grim  demon  of  civil  discord  would  rear 
again  his  horrid  head  in  our  midst,  "  gnash  loud  his 
iron  fangs,  and  shake  his  crest  of  bristling  bayo- 
nets "  }     [Laughter.] 

Then,  sir,  think  of  the  long  and  painful  process  of 
reconstruction  that  must  follow,  with  its  concomitant 
amendments  to  the  Constitution  ;  the  seventeenth, 
eighteenth,  and  nineteenth  articles.  The  sixteenth,  it 
is  of  course  understood,  is  to  be  appropriated  to  those 
blushing  damsels  who  are,  day  after  day,  beseeching 
us  to  let  them  vote,  hold  ofBce,  drink  cock-tails,  ride 
astraddle,  and  do  everything  else  the  men  do.  [Roars 
of  laughter.]  But  above  all,  sir,  let  me  implore 
you  to  reflect  for  a  single  moment  on  the  deplorable 
condition  of  our  country  in  case  of  a  foreign  war, 
with  all  our  ports  blockaded  all  our  cities  in  a  state 
of  siege  ;  the  gaunt  spectre  of  famine  brooding  like 
a  hungry  vulture  over  our  starving  land  ;  our  com- 
missary stores  all  exhausted,  and  our  famishing 
armies  withering  away  in  the  field,  a  helpless  prey 


\ 


y.   PROCTOR  KNOTT.  2/3 

to  the  insatiate  demon  of  hunger  ;  our  navy  rotting 
in  the  docks  for  want  of  provisions  for  our  gallant 
seamen,  and  we  without  any  railroad  communication 
whatever  with  the  prolific  pine  thickets  of  the  St. 
Croix.     [Great  laughter.] 

Ah,  sir,  I  could  very  well  understand  why  m^ 
amiable  friends  from  Pennsylvania  [Mr.  Myers,  Mr. 
Kelley,  and  Mr.  O'Neill]  should  be  so  earnest  in  their 
support  of  this  bill  the  other  day,  and  if  their  honor- 
able colleague,  my  friend,  Mr.  Randall,  will  pardon 
the  remark,  I  will  say  I  considered  his  criticism  of 
their  action  on  that  occasion  as  not  only  unjust,  but 
ungenerous.  I  knew  they  were  looking  forward 
with  the  far-reaching  ken  of  enlightened  statesman- 
ship to  the  pitiable  condition  in  which  Philadelphia 
will  be  left,  unless  speedily  supplied  with  railroad 
connection  in  some  way  or  other  with  this  garden 
spot  of  the  universe.  [Laughter.]  And  besides,  sir, 
this  discussion  has  relieved  my  mind  of  a  mystery 
that  has  weighed  upon  it  like  an  incubus  for  years. 
I  could  never  understand  before  why  there  was  so 
much  excitement  during  the  last  Congress  over  the 
acquisition  of  Alta  Vela.  I  could  never  understand 
why  it  was  that  some  of  our  ablest  statesmen  and 
most  disinterested  patriots  should  entertain  such 
dark  forebodings  of  the  untold  calamities  that  w^ere 
to  befall  our  beloved  country  unless  we  should  take 
immediate  possession  of  that  desirable  island.  But 
I  see  now  that  they  were  laboring  under  the  mis- 
taken impression  that  the  Government  would  need 
the  guano  to  manure  the  public  lands  on  the  St. 
Croix.     [Great  laughter.] 

Now,  sir,  I  repeat  I  have  been  satisfied  for  years 

that  if  there  was  any  portion  of  the  inhabited  globe 

i8 


274  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

absolutely  in  a  suffering  condition  for  want  of  a  rail* 
road  it  was  these  teeming  pine  barrens  of  the  St. 
Croix.  [Laughter.]  At  what  particular  point  on 
that  noble  stream  such  a  road  should  be  commenced 
I  knew  was  immaterial,  and  so  it  seems  to  have  been 
considered  by  the  draughtsman  of  this  bill.  It  might 
be  up  at  the  spring  or  down  at  the  foot-log,  or  the 
Watergate,  or  the  fish-dam,  or  anywhere  along  the 
bank,  no  matter  where.  [Laughter.]  But  in  what 
direction  should  it  run,  or  where  should  it  termi- 
nate, were  always  to  my  mind  questions  of  the  most 
painful  perplexity.  I  could  conceive  of  no  place 
on  "God's  green  earth"  in  such  straitened  circum- 
stances for  railroad  facilities  as  to  be  likely  to  desire 
or  willing  to  accept  such  a  connection.  [Laughter,] 
I  knew  that  neither  Bayfield  nor  Superior  City  would 
have  it,  for  they  both  indignantly  spurned  the  munif- 
icence of  the  Government  when  coupled  with  such 
ignominious  conditions,  and  let  this  very  same  land 
grant  die  on  their  hands  years  and  years  ago,  rather 
than  submit  to  the  degradation  of  a  direct  commu- 
nication by  railroad  with  the  piny  woods  of  the  St. 
Croix  ;  and  I  knew  that  what  the  enterprising  in- 
habitants of  those  giant  young  cities  would  refuse 
to  take  would  have  few  charms  for  others,  whatever 
their  necessities  or  cupidity  might  be.  [Laughter.] 
Hence,  as  I  have  said,  sir,  I  was  utterly  at  a  loss 
to  determine  where  the  terminus  of  this  great  and 
indispensable  road  should  be,  until  I  accidentally 
overheard  some  gentlemen  the  other  day  mention 
the  name  of  "  Duluth."  [Great  laughter.]  Duluth  ! 
The  word  fell  upon  my  ear  with  peculiar  and  inde- 
scribable charm,  like  the  gentle  murmur  of  a  low 
fountain   stealing  forth  in  the  midst  of  roses,  or  the 


y.  PROCTOR  KNOTT.  27$ 

soft,  sweet  accents  of  an  angel's  whisper  in  the 
bright,  joyous  dream  of  sleeping  innocence.  Duluth! 
'T  was  the  name  for  which  my  soul  had  panted  for 
years,  as  the  hart  panteth  for  the  water-brooks.  [Re- 
newed laughter.]  But  where  was  Duluth  ?  Never, 
in  all  my  hmited  reading,  had  my  vision  been  glad- 
dened by  seeing  the  celestial  word  in  print.  [Laugh- 
ter.]  And  I  felt  a  profounder  humiliation  in  my 
ignorance  that  its  dulcet  syllables  had  never  before 
ravished  my  delighted  ear.  [Roars  of  laughter.]  I 
was  certain  the  draughtsman  of  this  bill  had  never 
heard  of  it,  or  it  would  have  been  designated  as 
one  of  the  termini  of  this  road.  I  asked  my  friends 
about  it,  but  they  knew  nothing  of  it.  I  rushed  to 
the  library,  and  examined  all  the  maps  I  could  find. 
[Laughter.]  I  discovered  in  one  of  them  a  delicate, 
hair-like  line,  diverging  from  the  Mississippi  near  a 
place  marked  Prescott,  which  I  supposed  was  in- 
tended to  represent  the  river  St.  Croix,  but  I  could 
nowhere  find  Duluth. 

Nevertheless,  I  was  confident  it  existed  some- 
where, and  that  its  discovery  would  constitute  the 
crowning  glory  of  the  present  century,  if  not  of  all 
modern  times.  [Laughter.]  I  knew  it  was  bound 
to  exist  in  the  very  nature  of  things  ;  that  the  sym- 
metry and  perfection  of  our  planetary  system  would 
be  incomplete  without  it  [renewed  laughter]  ;  that 
the  elements  of  material  nature  would  long  since 
have  resolved  themselves  back  into  original  chaos,  if 
there  had  been  such  a  hiatus  in  creation  as  would 
have  resulted  from  leaving  out  Duluth.  [Roars  of 
daughter.]  In  fact,  sir,  I  was  overwhelmed  with  the 
conviction  that  Duluth  not  only  existed  somewhere, 
but  that,  wherever  it  was,  it  was  a  great  and  glorious 


276  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

place.  I  was  convinced  that  the  i^reatest  calamity 
that  ever  befell  the  benighted  nations  of  the  ancient 
world  was  in  their  having  passed  away  without  a 
knowledge  of  the  actual  existence  of  Duluth  ;  that 
their  fabled  Atlantis,  never  seen  save  by  the  hal- 
lowed vision  of  inspired  poesy,  was,  in  fact,  but  an- 
other name  for  Duluth  ;  that  the  golden  orchard  of 
the  Hesperides  was  but  a  poetical  synonym  for  the 
beer  gardens  in  the  vicinity  of  Duluth.  [Great 
laughter.]  I  was  certain  that  Herodotus  had  died 
a  miserable  death  because  in  all  his  travels  and  with 
all  his  geographical  research  he  had  never  heard  of 
Duluth.  [Laughter.]  I  knew  that  if  the  immortal 
spirit  of  Homer  could  look  down  from  another 
heaven  than  that  created  by  his  own  celestial  genius 
upon  the  long  lines  of  pilgrims  from  every  nation  of 
the  earth  to  the  gushing  fountain  of  poesy  opened 
by  the  touch  of  his  magic  wand  ;  if  he  could  be  per- 
mitted to  behold  the  vast  assemblage  of  grand  and 
glorious  productions  of  the  lyric  art  called  into  be- 
ing by  his  own  inspired  strains,  he  would  weep  tears 
of  bitter  anguish  that,  instead  of  lavishing  all  the 
stores  of  his  mighty  genius  upon  the  fall  of  Ilion,  it 
had  not  been  his  more  blessed  lot  to  crystallize  in 
deathless  song  the  rising  glories  of  Duluth.  [Great 
and  continued  laughter.]  Yet,  sir,  had  it  not  been 
for  this  map,  kindly  furnished  me  by  the  Legislature 
of  Minnesota,  I  might  have  gone  down  to  my  ob- 
scure and  humble  grave  in  an  agony  of  despair, 
because  I  could  nowhere  find  Duluth.  [Renewed 
laughter.]  Had  such  been  my  melancholy  fate,  I 
have  no  doubt  that,  with  the  last  feeble  pulsation 
of  my  breaking  heart,  with  the  last  faint  exhalation 
of  my  fleeting  breath,  I  should  have  whispered, 
*'  Where  is  Duluth  ?  "     [Roars  of  laughter.] 


y.   PROCTOR  KNOTT.  2'J'J 

But,  thanks  to  the  beneficence  of  that  band  of 
ministering  angels  who  have  their  bright  abodes  in 
the  far-off  capital  of  Minnesota,  just  as  the  agony 
of  my  anxiety  was  about  to  culminate  in  the  frenzy 
of  despair,  this  blessed  map  was  placed  in  my  hands  ; 
and  as  I  unfolded  it  a  resplendent  scene  of  ineffable 
glory  opened  before  me,  such  as  I  imagine  burst 
upon  the  enraptured  vision  of  the  wandering  peri 
through  the  opening  gates  of  paradise.  [Renewed 
laughter.]  There,  there  for  the  first  time,  my  en- 
chanted eye  rested  upon  the  ravishing  word  "  Du- 
luth." 

This  map,  sir,  is  intended,  as  it  appears  from  its 
title,  to  illustrate  the  position  of  Duluth  in  the 
United  States  ;  but  if  gentlemen  will  examine  it,  I 
think  they  will  concur  with  me  in  the  opinion  that 
it  is  far  too  modest  in  its  pretensions.  It  not  only 
illustrates  the  position  of  Duluth  in  the  United 
States,  but  exhibits  its  relations  with  all  created 
things.  It  even  goes  farther  than  this.  It  lifts  the 
shadowy  veil  of  futurity,  and  affords  us  a  view  of  the 
golden  prospects  of  Duluth  far  along  the  dim  vista 
of  ages  yet  to  come. 

If  gentlemen  will  examine  it,  they  will  find  Duluth 
not  only  in  the  centre  of  the  map,  but  represented 
in  the  centre  of  a  series  of  concentric  circles,  one 
hundred  miles  apart,  and  some  of  them  as  much  as 
four  thousand  miles  in  diameter,  embracing  alike  in 
their  tremendous  sweep  the  fragrant  savannas  of 
the  sun-lit  South  and  the  eternal  solitudes  of  snow 
that  mantle  the  ice-bound  North.  [Laughter.]  How 
these  circles  were  produced  is  perhaps  one  of  those 
primordial  mysteries  that  the  most  skillful  paleolo- 
gist  will  never  be  able  to  explain.     [Renewed  laugh* 


2^^  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE., 

ter.]  But  the  fact  is,  sir,  Duluth  is  preeminently  a 
central  place,  for  I  am  told  by  gentlemen  who  have 
been  so  reckless  of  their  own  personal  safety  as  to 
venture  away  into  those  awful  regions  where  Duluth 
is  supposed  to  be  that  it  is  so  exactly  in  the  centre 
of  the  visible  universe  that  the  sky  comes  down  at 
precisely  the  same  distance  all  around  it.  [Roars  of 
laughter.] 

I  find  by  reference  to  this  map  that  Duluth  is 
situated  somewhere  near  the  western  end  of  Lake 
Superior  ;  but  as  there  is  no  dot  or  other  mark  in- 
dicating its  exact  location,  I  am  unable  to  say 
whether  it  is  actually  confined  to  any  particular  spot, 
or  whether  "it  is  just  lying  around  there  loose." 
[Renewed  laughter.]  I  really  cannot  tell  whether 
it  is  one  of  those  ethereal  creations  of  intellectual 
frostwork,  more  intangible  than  the  rose-tinted 
clouds  of  a  summer  sunset,  —  one  of  those  airy  ex- 
halations of  the  speculator's  brain,  which  I  am  told 
are  ever  flitting  in  the  form  of  towns  and  cities 
along  those  lines  of  railroad,  built  with  Government 
subsidies,  luring  the  unwary  settler  as  the  mirage  of 
the  desert  lures  the  famishing  traveler  on,  and  ever 
on,  until  it  fades  away  in  the  darkening  horizon,  — 
or  whether  it  is  a  real  bond  fide,  substantial  city,  all 
**  staked  off,"  with  the  lots  marked  with  their  own- 
ers' names,  like  that  proud  commercial  metropolis 
recently  discovered  on  the  desirable  shores  of  San 
Domingo.  [Laughter.]  But,  however  that  may  be, 
I  am  satisfied  Duluth  is  there,  or  thereabout,  for  I 
see  it  stated  here  on  this  map  that  it  is  exactly  thir- 
ty-nine hundred  and  ninety  miles  from  Liverpool 
[laughter],  though  I  have  no  doubt,  for  the  sake  of 
convenience,  it  will  be  moved  back  ten  miles,  so  as 


y.   PROCTOR  KNOTT.  279 

to  make  the  distance  an  even  four  thousand.     [Re- 
newed laughter.] 

Then,  sir,  there  is  the  chmate  of  Duluth,  unques- 
tionably the  most  salubrious  and  delightful  to  be 
found  anywhere  on  the  Lord's  earth.  Now,  I  have 
always  been  under  the  impression,  as  I  presume  other 
gentlemen  have,  that  in  the  region  around  Lake  Su- 
perior it  was  cold  enough  for  at  least  nine  months  in 
the  year  to  freeze  the  smoke-stack  off  a  locomotive. 
[Great  laughter.]  But  I  see  it  represented  on  this 
map  that  Duluth  is  situated  exactly  half-way  be- 
tween the  latitudes  of  Paris  and  Venice,  so  that  gen- 
tlemen who  have  inhaled  the  exhilarating  airs  of  the 
one  or  basked  in  the  golden  sunlight  of  the  other 
may  see  at  a  glance  that  Duluth  must  be  a  place 
of  untold  delights  [laughter],  a  terrestrial  paradise, 
fanned  by  the  balmy  zephyrs  of  an  eternal  spring, 
clothed  in  the  gorgeous  sheen  of  ever-blooming 
flowers,  and  vocal  with  the  silvery  melody  of  nat- 
ure's choicest  songsters.  [Laughter.]  In  fact,  sir, 
since  I  have  seen  this  map  I  have  no  doubt  that 
Byron  was  vainly  endeavoring  to  convey  some  faint 
conception  of  the  delicious  charms  of  Duluth  when 
his  poetic  soul  gushed  forth  in  the  rippling  strains 
of  that  beautiful  rhapsody  :  — 

"Know  ye  the  land  of  the  cedar  and  vine, 
Where  the  flowers  ever  blossom,  the  beams  ever  shine  ; 
Where  the  light  wings  of  Zephyr,  oppressed  with  perfume, 
Wax  faint  o'er  the  gardens  of  Gul  in  her  bloom  ; 
Where  the  citron  and  olive  are  fairest  of  fruit, 
And  the  voice  of  the  nightingale  never  is  mute  ; 
Whe?e  the  tints  of  the  earth  and  the  hues  of  the  sky, 
In  color  though  varied,  in  beauty  may  vie  .-'  " 

[Laughter.] 

As  to  the  commercial  resources  of   Duluth,   sir. 


28o  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

they  are  simply  illimitable  and  inexhaustible,  as  is 
shown  by  this  map.  I  see  it  stated  here  that  there 
is  a  vast  scope  of  territory,  embracing  an  area  of 
over  two  million  square  miles,  rich  in  every  element 
of  material  wealth  and  commercial  prosperity,  all 
tributary  to  Duluth.  Look  at  it,  sir  [pointing  to  the 
map].  Here  are  inexhaustible  mines  of  gold,  im- 
measurable veins  of  silver,  impenetrable  depths  of 
boundless  forest,  vast  coal-measures,  wide,  extended 
plains  of  richest  pasturage,  all,  all  embraced  in  this 
vast  territory,  which  must,  in  the  very  nature  of 
things,  empty  the  untold  treasures  of  its  commerce 
into  the  lap  of  Duluth.     [Laughter.] 

Look  at  it,  sir  !  [Pointing  to  the  map.]  Do  not 
you  see  from  these  broad,  brown  lines  drawn  around 
this  immense  territory  that  the  enterprising  inhabit- 
ants of  Duluth  intend  some  day  to  inclose  it  all  in 
one  vast  corral,  so  that  its  commerce  will  be  bound 
to  go  there,  whether  it  would  or  not  t  [Great  laugh- 
ter.] And  here,  sir  [still  pointing  to  the  map],  I  find 
within  a  convenient  distance  the  Piegan  Indians, 
which,  of  all  the  many  accessories  to  the  glory  of 
Duluth,  I  consider  by  far  the  most  inestimable.  For, 
sir,  I  have  been  told  that  when  the  small-pox  breaks 
out  among  the  women  and  children  of  that  famous 
tribe,  as  it  sometimes  does,  they  afford  the  finest 
subjects  in  the  world  for  the  strategical  experiments 
of  any  enterprising  military  hero  who  desires  to  im- 
prove himself  in  the  noble  art  of  war  [laughter] ; 
especially  for  any  valiant  lieutenant,  general  whose 

"  Trenchant  blade,  Toledo  trusty, 
For  want  of  fighting  has  grown  rusty, 
And  eats  into  itself  for  lack 
Of  somebody  to  hew  and  hack." 


y.   PROCTOR  KNOTT.  28 1 

[Great  laughter.] 

Sir,  the  great  conflict  now  raging  in  the  Old  World 
has  presented  a  phenomenon  in  military  science  un- 
precedented in  the  annals  of  mankind,  —  a  phenom- 
enon that  has  reversed  all  the  traditions  of  the 
past  as  it  has  disappointed  all  the  expectations  of  the 
present.  A  great  and  warlike  people,  renowned 
alike  for  their  skill  and  valor,  have  been  swept  away 
before  the  triumphant  advance  of  an  inferior  foe, 
like  autumn  stubble  before  a  hurricane  of  fire'.  For 
aught  I  know,  the  next  flash  of  electric  fire  that 
shimmers  along  the  ocean  cable  may  tell  us  that 
Paris,  with  every  fibre  quivering  with  the  agony  of 
impotent  despair,  writhes  beneath  the  conquering 
heel  of  her  loathed  invader.  Ere  another  moon  shall 
wax  and  wane  the  brightest  star  in  the  galaxy  of  na- 
tions may  fall  from  the  zenith  of  her  glory  never  to 
rise  again.  Ere  the  modest  violets  of  early  spring 
shall  ope  their  beauteous  eyes,  the  genius  of  civiliza- 
tion may  chant  the  wailing  requiem  of  the  proudest 
nationality  the  world  has  ever  seen,  as  she  scatters 
her  withered  and  tear-moistened  lilies  o'er  the  bloody 
tomb  of  butchered  France.  But,  sir,  I  wish  to  ask  if 
you  honestly  and  candidly  believe  that  the  Dutch 
would  have  ever  overrun  the  French  in  that  kind  of 
style  if  General  Sheridan  had  not  gone  over  there 
and  told  King  William  and  Von  Moltke  how  he  had 
managed  to  whip  the.  Piegan  Indians.  [Great  laugh- 
ter.] 

And  here,  sir,  recurring  to  this  map,  I  find  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  Piegans  "  vast  herds  of 
buffalo  "  and  **  immense  fields  of  rich  wheat  lands." 

[Here  the  hammer  fell.] 

[Many  cries  :  ''  Go  on  !  "  "  Go  on  !  "] 


282  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

The  Speaker.  Is  there  objection  to  the  gentle- 
man  from  Kentucky  continuing  his  remarks  ?  The 
Chair  hears  none.     The  gentleman  will  proceed. 

Mr.  Knott.  I  was  remarking,  sir,  upon  these  vast 
"  wheat  fields  "  represented  on  this  map  as  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  the  buffaloes  and  the 
Piegans,  and  was  about  to  say  that  the  idea  of  there 
being  these  immense  wheat  fields  in  the  very  heart 
of  a  wilderness,  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  miles  be- 
yond the  utmost  verge  of  civilization,  may  appear  to 
some  gentlemen  as  rather  incongruous,  as  rather  too 
great  a  strain  on  the  "blankets"  of  veracity.  But 
to  my  mind  there  is  no  difficulty  in  the  matter  what- 
ever. The  phenomenon  is  very  easily  accounted 
for.  It  is  evident,  sir,  that  the  Piegans  sowed  that 
wheat  there  and  plowed  it  with  buffalo  bulls.  [Great 
laughter.]  Now,  sir,  this  fortunate  combination  of 
buffaloes  and  Piegans,  considering  their  relative 
positions  to  each  other  and  to  Duluth,  as  they  are 
arranged  on  this  map,  satisfies  me  that  Duluth  is 
destined  to  be  the  beef  market  of  the  world. 

Here,  you  will  observe  [pointing  to  the  map],  are 
the  buffaloes,  directly  between  the  Piegans  and  Du- 
luth ;  and  here,  right  on  the  road  to  Duluth,  are  the 
Creeks.  Now,  sir,  when  the  buffaloes  are  sufficiently 
fat  from  grazing  on  these  immense  wheat  fields,  you 
see  it  will  be  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  for  the 
Piegans  to  drive  them  on  down,  stay  all  night  with 
their  friends,  the  Creeks,  and  go  into  Duluth  in  the 
morning.  [Great  laughter.]  I  think  I  see  them 
now,  sir,  a  vast  herd  of  buffaloes,  with  their  heads 
down,  their  eyes  glaring,  their  nostrils  dilated,  their 
tongues  out,  and  their  tails  curled  over  their  backs, 
tearing  along  towards  Duluth,  with  about  a  thousand 


y.   PROCTOR  KNOTT.  283 

Piegans  on  their  grass-bellied  ponies  yelling  at  their 
heels  !  [Great  laughter.]  On  they  come  I  And  as 
they  sweep  past  the  Creeks,  they  join  in  the  chase, 
and  away  they  all  go,  yelling,  bellowing,  ripping,  and 
tearing  along,  amid  clouds  of  dust,  until  the  last 
buffalo  is  safely  penned  in  the  stock-yards  of  Duluth  ! 
[Shouts  of  laughter.] 

Sir,  I  might  stand  here  for  hours  and  hours,  and 
expatiate  with  rapture  upon  the  gorgeous  prospects 
of  Duluth,  as  depicted  upon  this  map.  But  human 
life  is  too  short  and  the  time  of  this  House  far  too 
valuable  to  allow  me  to  linger  longer  upon  the  de- 
lightful theme.  [Laughter.]  I  think  every  gentle- 
man on  this  floor  is  as  well  satisfied  as  1  am  that 
Duluth  is  destined  to  become  the  commercial  me- 
tropolis of  the  universe,  and  that  this  road  should  be 
built  at  once.  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  no  pa- 
triotic representative  of  the  American  people,  who 
has  a  proper  appreciation  of  the  associated  glories 
of  Duluth  and  the  St.  Croix,  will  hesitate  a  moment 
to  say  that  every  able-bodied  female  m  the  land,  be  • 
tween  the  ages  of  eighteen  and  forty-five,  who  is  in 
favor  of  "women's  rights  "  should  be  drafted  and  set 
to  work  upon  this  great  work  without  delay.  [Roars 
of  laughter.]  Nevertheless,  sir,  it  grieves  my  very 
soul  to  be  compelled  to  say  that  I  cannot  vote  for 
the  grant  of  lands  provided  for  in  this  bill. 

Ah,  sir,  you  can  have  no  conception  of  the  poign- 
ancy of  my  anguish  that  I  am  deprived  of  that 
blessed  privilege  !  [Laughter.]  There  are  two  in- 
superable obstacles  in  the  way.  In  the  first  place, 
my  constituents,  for  whom  I  am  acting  here,  have 
no  more  interest  in  this  road  than  they  have  in  the 
great  question  of  culinary  taste  now  perhaps  agitat- 


284  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

ing  the  public  mind  of  Dominica,  as  to  whether  the 
illustrious  commissioners  who  recently  left  this  capi- 
tal for  that  free  and  enlightened  republic  would  be 
better  fricasseed,  boiled,  or  roasted  [great  laughter]  ; 
and,  in  the  second  place,  these  lands  which  I  am 
asked  to  give  away,  alas,  are  not  mine  to  bestow  ! 
My  relation  to  them  is  simply  that  of  trustee  to  an 
express  trust.  And  shall  I  ever  betray  that  trust  ? 
Never,  sir!  Rather  perish  Duluth !  [Shouts  of 
laughter.]  Perish  the  paragon  of  cities  !  Rather 
let  the  freezing  cyclones  of  the  bleak  Northwest 
bury  it  forever  beneath  the  eddying  sands  of  the 
raging  St.  Croix  !     [Great  laughter.] 


"BILL   ARP." 


"  Bill  Arp,  so  called,"  may  be  described  as  a  rough-and-tumble, 
random,  local,  current,  and  partisan  dissertator  upon  the  topics  of  the 
time,  and,  in  this  character,  has  always  enjoyed  immense  popularity 
in  the  South.  The  greater  part  of  the  volume,  from  which  the  ac- 
companying excerpts  are  taken,  is  made  up  of  material  the  wit  of 
which  lay  largely  in  its  relevancy  and  application.  The  writer,  Mr. 
Charles  H.  Smith,  is  a  politician  as  well  as  a  humorist,  and  in  much 
of  his  lucubration,  produced  just  after  the  war,  the  feeling  and  sar- 
casm are  in  excess  of  the  humor.  A  former  citizen  and  mayor  of 
Rome,  in  Georgia,  Mr.  Smith  has,  for  several  years,  resided  near  At- 
lanta. He  is  a  lawyer  by  profession  and  practice,  and  assumes  the 
part  of  "  Bill  Arp  "  only  on  occasion  and  for  a  purpose. 


BILL    ARP    ON    LITIGATION. 


The  fust  case  I  ever  had  in  a  Justice  Court  I  em- 
ploid  old  Bob  Leggins,  who  was  a  sorter  of  a  self- 
eddicated  fool.  I  giv  him  two  dollars  in  advanse, 
and  he  argud  the  case,  as  I  thot,  on  two  sides,  and 
was  more  luminus  a2:in  me  than  for  me.  I  lost  the 
case,  and  found  out  atterwards  that  the  defendant 
had  employed  Leggins  atter  I  did,  and  gin  him  five 
dollars  to  lose  my  case.  '  I  look  upon  this  as  a 
warnin'  to  all  klients  to  pay  big  fees  and  keep  your 
lawver  out  of  temtashun. 

My  xperience  in  liti2:asbun  hav  not  been  satisfak- 
tory.     I  sued  Sugar  Black  oust  for  the  price  of  a 


286  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

lode  of  shuks.  He  seel  he  wanted  to  buy  sum  ruff- 
ness,  and  I  agreed  to  bring  him  a  lode  of  shuks  for 
two  dollers.  My  waggin  got  broke  and  he  got  tired 
a  waitin',  and  sent  out  atter  the  shuks  himself. 
When  I  called  on  him  for  the  pay,  he  seemed  sur- 
prised, and  sed  it  had  cost  him  two  dollars  and  a 
half  to  hav  the  shuks  hauld,  and  that  I  justly  owd 
him  a  half  a  dollar.  He  were  more  bigger  than  I 
was,  so  I  swallerd  my  bile  and  sued  him.  His  law^ 
yer  pled  a  set-off  for  haulin'.  He  pled  that  the  shuks 
was  unsound ;  that  they  was  barred  by  limitashuns  ; 
that  they  did  n't  agree  with  his  cow  ;  and  that  he 
never  got  any  shuks  from  me.  He  spoak  about  a 
hour,  and  allooded  to  me  as  a  swindler  about  forty- 
five  times.  The  bedevild  Jewry  went  out,  and  brot 
in  a  verdik  agin  me  for  fifty  cents,  and  four  dollars 
for  costs.  I  hain't  saved  many  shuks  on  my  planta- 
shun  sence,  and  I  don't  intend  to  til  it  gits  less 
xpensiv.  I  look  upon  this  as  a  warnin'  to  all  foaks 
never  to  go  to  law  about  s kicks,  or  any  other  small 
sirkumstanse. 

The  next  trubble  I  had  was  with  a  feller  I  hired 
to  dig  me  a  well.  He  was  to  dig  it  for  twenty  dol- 
lers, and  I  was  to  pay  him  in  meat  and  meal,  and 
sich  like.  The  vagabon  kep  gittin'  along  til  he  got 
all  the  pay,  but  had  n't  dug  nary  a  foot  in  the  ground. 
So  I  made  out  my  akkount,  and  sued  him  as  follers, 
to  wit  :  — 

Old  John  Hanks,  to  Bill  Arp  Dr. 

To  I  well  you  did  n't  dig.  ^20 

Well,  Hanks,  he  hired  a  cheep  lawyer,  who  rared 
round  xtensively,  and  sed  a  heep  of  funny  things  at 
my  xpense,  and  finally  dismissd  my  case  for  what 


BILL   ARP.  287 

he  .calld  its  "ridikulum  abserdum."  I  paid  those 
costs,  and  went  home  a  sadder  and  a  wiser  man.  I 
pulld  down  my  little  kabbin  and  mooved  it  sum 
three  hundred  yards  nigher  the  spring,  and  I  hav 
drunk  mity  little  well  water  sence.  I  look  upon  this 
case  as  a  warnin'  to  all  foaks  never  to  pay  for  euy- 
t  hi  Jig  till  y  on  git  it,  espesJially  if  it  has  to  be  dug. 

The  next  law  case  I  had  I  ganed  it  all  by  myself, 
by  the  forse  of  sirkumstanses.  I  bot  a  man's  note 
that  was  giv  for  the  hire  of  a  nigger  boy,  Dik. 
Findin'  he  would  n't  pay  me,  I  sued  him  before  old 
Squire  Maginnis,  beleevin'  that  it  was  sich  a  ded 
thing  that  the  devil  could  n't  keep  me  out  of  a  ver- 
dik.  The  feller  pled  failur  of  konsiderashun,  and 
no7i  est  faktuvty  and  ignis  fatnis,  and  infansy,  and 
that  the  nigger's  name  was  n't  Dik,  but  Richard. 
The  old  Squire  was  a  powerful  sesesh,  and  hated 
the  Yankees  amazin'.  So,  atter  the  lawyer  had  got 
thru  his  speech  and  finished  up  his  readin'  from  a 
book  called  ''  Greenleaf,"  I  rose  forward  to  a  atti- 
tood.  Stretchin'  forth  my  arms,  ses  I,  "  Squire  Ma- 
ginnis, I  would  ax,  sur,  if  this  is  a  time  in  the  his- 
try  of  our  afflikted  kountry  when  Yankee  law  books 
should  be  admitted  in  a  Southern  patriot's  Court  ? 
Hain't  we  got  a  State  of  our  own  and  a  code  of 
Georgy  laws  that 's  printed  on  Georgy  sile  ?  On 
the  very  fust  page  of  the  gentleman's  book  I  seed 
the  name  of  the  sitty  of  Bosting.  Yes,  sur,  it  was 
ritten  in  Bosting,  where  they  don't  know  no  more 
about  the  hire  of  a  nigger  than  an  ox  knows  the 
man  who  will  tan  his  hide."  I  sed  sum  more  things 
that  was  pinted  and  patriotik,  and  closd  my  argy- 
ment  by  handin'  the  book  to  the  Squire.  He  put 
on  his  speks,  and  atter  lookin'  at  the  book  about  a 
minit,  ses  he,  — 


288  ODDITIES  IN  SOCfTHERN  LIFE. 

*'  Mr.  Arp,  you  can  have  a  judgment,  and  I  hope 
that  from  hensefourth  no  lawyer  will  presoom  to 
cum  before  this  honerabul  court  with  pisen  doky- 
ments  to  proove  his  case.  If  he  do,  this  court  will 
take  it  as  an  insult,  and  send  him  to  jail." 

I  look  upon  this  case  as  a  warnin'  to  all  foaks  who 
gambel  in  law  to  hold  a  good  hand  and  play  it  well. 
High  jestice  and  patriotism  are  winning  trumps. 

My  next  case  was  about  steeUn'  a  hog.  Larseny 
from  the  woods,  I  think  they  call  it.  I  did  n't  hav 
but  one  hog,  and  we  had  to  let  him  run  out  to  keep 
him  alive,  for  akorns  was  cheeper  than  corn  at  my 
house.  Old  Romulus  Ramsour  sorter  wanted  sum 
fresh  meat,  and  so  he  shot  my  shote  in  the  woods, 
and  was  catched  carrying  him  home.  He  had  cut 
off  his  ears  and  throwed  em  away  ;  but  we  found 
em,  with  the  under  bit  in  the  right  and  swaller  fork 
in  the  left,  and  so  Romulus  was  brot  up  square  be- 
fore the  Jewry,  and  his  defense  w^as  that  it  was  a 
wild  hog.  The  Jewry  was  out  about  two  hours  and 
brot  in  a  verdik  :  "  We  the  Jewry  know  that  shortly 
atter  the  war  the  kountry  was  scarce  of  provishuns, 
and  in  considerashun  of  the  hard  time  our  poor  pee- 
pul  had  in  maintanin'  their  families,  and  the  temta- 
shuns  that  surrounded  em,  we  find  the  defendant 
not  guilty,  but  we  rekommend  him  not  to  do  so  any 
more."  The  motto  of  this  case  is  that  a  man  ortent 
to  keep  hogs  in  a  poor  naberhood. 

After  this  I  had  a  diffikulty  with  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Kohen,  and  I  thot  I  would  n't  go  to  law, 
but  would  arbytrate.  I  had  bot  Tom  Swillins' 
wheat  at  a  dollar  a  bushel,  (f  he  couldnt  do  any  bet- 
ter, and  if  he  could  do  better  he  was  to  cum  back 
Biud  giv  me  the prejfej'ense.     The  skamp  went  off  and 


BILL   ARP,  289 

sold  the  wheat  to  Kohen  for  a  dollar  and  five  cents, 
and  Kohen  knowd  all  about  his  kontrak  with  me. 
Me  and  him  lik  to  hav  fit,  and  perhaps  would,  if  I 
had  n't  been  puny  :  but  we  finally  left  it  to  Josh 
Billins  to  arbytrate.  Old  Josh  deliberated  on  the 
thing  three  days  and  nites,  and  finally  brot  in  an 
award  that  Kohen  should  hav  the  wheat  and  / 
should  hav  the  preffereiise.  I  hain't  submitted  no 
more  cases  to  arbytration  sinse,  and  my  advise  to 
all  peepul  is  to  arbytrate  nuthin'  if  your  case  is  hon- 
est, for  there  ain't  no  judge  there  to  keep  one  man 
from  trikkin'  the  other.  An  honest  man  don't  stan 
no  chance  nowhere  xceptin'  in  a  court  house  with  a 
good  lawyer  to  back  him.  The  motto  of  this  case 
is,  never  to  arbytrate  nuthin'  but  a  bad  case,  and 
take  a  good  lawyer  to  advise,  and  pay  him  fur  it  be- 
fore you  do  that. 

But  I  got  Fretman.  /  did  n't,  but  my  lawyer, 
Marks,  did.  Fretman  was  a  nutmeg  skhool  teacher 
who  had  gone  round  my  naborhood  w^ith  his  skool 
artikles,  and  I  put  down  of  Troup  and  Calhoun  to 
go,  and  intended  to  send  seven  or  eight  more  if  he 
proved  himself  right.  I  soon  found  that  the  little 
nullifiers  warn't  lernin'  enything,  and  on  inquiry  I 
found  that  nutmeg  was  a  givin'  powerful  long  re- 
sessess,  and  employin'  his  time  cheefly  in  carryin' 
on  with  a  tolerbul  sized  female  gal  that  was  a  goin* 
to  him.  Troup  sed  he  heerd  the  gal  squeel  one  day, 
and  he  knowd  Fretman  was  a  squeezin'  of  her.  I 
I  don't  mind  our  boys  a  squeezin'  of  the  Yankee 
gals,  but  I  '11  be  blamed  if  the  Yankees  shall  be  a 
squeezin'  ourn.  So  I  got  mad  and  took  the  childern 
away.  At  the  end  of  the  term  Fretman  sued  me  for 
eighteen  dollars,  and  hired  a  cheep  lawyer  to  koUekt 

^9 


290  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

it.  Before  this  time  I  had  lerned  sum  sense  about 
a  lawyer,  so  I  hired  a  good  one,  and  spred  my  pokit 
book  down  before  him,  and  told  him  to  take  what 
would  satisfi  him.  And  he  took.  Old  Phil  Davis 
was  the  jestice.  Marks  made  the  openin'  speech  to 
the  effek  that  every  profeshunal  man  ort  to  be  able 
to  illustrate  his  trade,  and  he  therefore  proposed  to 
put  Mr.  Fretman  on  the  stan  and  spell  him.  This 
moshun  was  font  hard,  but  it  agreed  with  old  Phil's 
noshuns  of  ''  high  jestice,"  and  ses  he,  "  Mr.  Fret- 
man,  you  will  hav  to  spell,  sur."  Marks  then  swore 
him  that  he  would  giv  true  evidense  in  this  case,  and 
that  he  would  spell  evry  word  in  Dan'l  Webster's 
spellin'  book  correkly  to  the  best  of  his  knowledge 
and  beleef,  so  help  him,  etc.  I  saw  then  that  he 
were  a  tremblin'  all  over  like  a  cold  wet  dog.  Ses 
Marks,  *'  Mr.  Fretman,  spell  '  tisik.' "  Well,  he 
spelt  it,  puttin'  in  3.ph  and  a  th  and  2i  gk  and  a  zh, 
and  I  don't  know  what  all,  and  I  thot  he  were  gone 
up  the  fust  pop,  but  Marks  sed  it  were  right.  He 
then  spelt  him  right  strate  along  on  all  sorts  of  big 
words,  and  little  words,  and  long  words,  and  short 
words,  and  he  knowd  'em  all,  til  finally  Marks  ses, 
"Now,  sur,  spell  '  Ompompynusuk.' "  Fretman 
drawd  a  long  breth  and  sed  it  warn't  in  the  book. 
Marks  proved  it  was  by  a  old  preecher  who  was  a 
settin'  by,  and  old  Phil  spoke  up  with  power,  ses  he, 
*'  Mr.  Fretman,  you  must  spell  it,  sur,"  Fretman 
was  a  swettin'  like  a  run  down  filly.  He  took  one 
pass  at  it,  and  missd. 

"You  can  cum  down,  sur,"  ses  Marks,  ''you've 
lost  your  case  ;  "  and  shore  enuf,  old  Phil  giv  a  ver- 
dik  agin  him  like  a  darn. 

Marks   was  a  whale   in   his  way.     At  the   same 


BILL   ARP.  291 

court  he  was  about  to  nonsoot  a  Doktor  bekaus  he 
did  n't  hav  his  diplomy,  and  the  Doktor  begged  the 
court  for  time  to  go  home  after  it.  He  rode  seven 
miles  and  back  as  hard  as  he  could  lick  it,  and 
when  he  handed  it  over,  Marks,  ses  he,  "  Now,  sur, 
you  will  just  take  the  stand  and  translate  this  lattin' 
into  English,  so  that  the  court  may  onderstand  it." 
Well,  he  jest  caved,  for  he  could  n't  do  it. 

He  lost  his  case  in  two  minits,  for  the  old  squire 
sed  that  a  dokter  who  could  n't  read  his  diplomy 
had  no  more  right  to  praktise  than  a  magistrate 
what  could  n't  read  the  license  had  to  jine  two  cuple 


together! 


II. 


A    FEW   OF    MR.    ARP  S    REFLECTIONS. 

I  rekon  I  've  lived  as  much  as  mostfoaks  accordin* 
to  age,  and  I  ain't  tired  of  livin'  yit.  I  like  it.  I  've 
seen  good  times,  and  bad  times,  and  hard  times,  and 
times  that  tried  men's  soles,  but  I  never  seed  a  time 
that  I  couldent  extrakt  sum  cumfort  out  of  trubble. 
When  I  was  a  boy  I  was  a  lively  little  devil,  and  lost 
my  edycashun  bekaus  I  could  n't  see  enuf  fun  in 
the  spellin'  book  to  get  thru  it.  I  'm  sorry  for  it 
now,  for  a  blind  man  can  see  what  a  fool  I  am.  The 
last  skhoolin'  I  got  was  the  day  I  run  from  John 
Norton,  and  there  was  so  much  fun  in  that  my 
daddy  sed  he  rekoned  I  'd  got  larnin'  enuf.  I  had 
a  bile  on  my  back  as  big  as  a  ginney  ^gg,  and  it  was 
mighty  nigh  ready  to  bust.  We  boys  had  got  in  a 
way  of  ringin'  the  bell  before  old  Norton  got  there, 
and  he  sed  that  the  first  boy  he  kotch  at  it  would 
ketch  hail  kolumby.     Shore  enuf  he  slipped  upon 


292  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

US  one  mornin',  and  before  I  knovvd  it  he  had  me  b)! 
the  collar,  and  was  layin'  it  on  like  killin'  snakes.  I 
hollered,  "  My  bile,  my  bile,  don't  hit  me  on  my  bile," 
and  just  then  he  popped  a  center  shot,  and  I  jumped 
three  feet  in  the  atmosphere,  and  with  a  hoop  and  a 
beller  I  took  to  my  heels.  I  run  and  hollered  like 
the  devil  was  after  me,  and  shore  enuf  he  was.  His 
long  legs  gained  on  me  at  every  jump,  but  just  as 
he  was  about  to  grab  me  I  made  a  double  on  him, 
and  got  a  fresh  start.  I  was  aktiv  as  a  cat,  and  so 
we  had  it  over  fences,  thru  the  woods,  and  round  the 
meetin'  house,  and  all  the  boys  was  standin'  on  skool 
house  hill  a  hollerin',  '*  Go  it,  my  Bill  —  go  it,  my 
Bill."  As  good  luck  would  have  it  there  was  a  grape 
vine  a  swingin'  away  ahead  of  me,  and  I  ducked  my 
head  under  it  just  as  old  Norton  was  about  two 
jumps  behind.  He  had  n't  seen  it,  and  it  took  him 
about  the  middle,  and  throwed  him  the  hardest  sum- 
merset I  ever  seed  a  man  git.  He  was  tired,  and  I 
knowd  it,  and  I  stopped  about  three  rods  off  and 
laffed  at  him  as  loud  as  I  could  ball.  I  forgot  all 
about  my  bile.  He  never  follered  me  another  step, 
for  he  was  plum  giv  out,  but  he  set  there  bareheaded 
and  shook  his  hickory  at  me,  lookin'  as  mad  and  as 
miserable  as  possible.  That  lick  on  my  bile  was 
about  the  keenest  pain  I  ever  felt  in  my  life,  and 
like  to  have  killed  me.  It  busted  as  wide  open  as 
a  soap  trof,  and  let  every 'drop  of  the  juice  out,  but 
I  've  had  a  power  of  fun  thinkin'  about  it  for  the 
last  forty  years. 

But  I  did  n't  start  to  tell  you  about  that. 


BILL   ARP.  293 

JIM    ALLCORN. 

I  was  only  thinkin'  how  much  better  it  is  to  be  in 
a  lively  humor  than  be  goin'  about  like  a  disap- 
pointed ofifis  seeker.  Good  humor  is  a  blessed  thing 
in  a  family  and  smoothes  down  a  heap  of  trubble. 
I  never  was  mad  but  a  few  times  in  my  life,  and 
then  I  was  n't  mad  long.  Foaks  thought  I  was  mad 
when  I  fout  Jim  Allcorn,  but  I  wasent.  I  never 
had  had  any  grudge  agin  Jim.  He  had  never  done 
me  any  harm,  but  I  could  hear  of  his  sayin'  around 
in  the  naborhood  that  Bill  Arp  had  played  cock  of 
the  walk  long  enuf.  So  one  day  I  went  over  to 
Chulio  court  ground  to  joak  with  the  boys,  and 
shore  enuf  Jim  was  there,  and  I  soon  perseeved  that 
the  devil  was  in  him.  He  had  never  been  whipped 
by  anybody  in  the  distrikt,  and  he  outweighed  me  by 
about  fifteen  pounds.  A  drink  or  two  had  made 
him  sassy,  and  so  he  commenced  walkin'  around 
first  to  one  crowd,  and  then  another,  darin'  anybody 
to  fite  him.  He  would  pint  to  his  forrerd  and  say, 
"  I  '11  give  anybody  five  dollars  to  hit  that."  I  was 
standin'  tawkin'  to  Frank  Air  and  John  Johnsin,  and 
as  nobody  took  up  Jim's  offer,  thinks,  says  I  to  my- 
self, if  he  cums  round  here  a  huntin'  for  a  fite  he 
shall  have  one,  by  golly.  If  he  dares  me  to  hit  him 
I  '11  do  it  if  it  's  the  last  lick  I  ever  strike  on  this 
side  of  Jordin.  Frank  Air  looked  at  me,  and  seemed 
to  know  what  I  was  a  thinkin',  and  says  he,  "  Bill, 
jest  let  Allcorn  alone.  He  's  too  big  for  you,  and 
besides,  there  ain't  nothin'  to  fite  about."  By  this 
time  Jim  was  makin'  rite  towards  us.  I  put  myself 
in  position,  and  by  the  time  he  got  to  us  every 
muscle  in  my  body  was  strung  as  tite  as  a  banjo.     I 


294  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

was  worked  up  powerful,  and  felt  like  I  could  whip 
a  camp  meetin'of  wild  cats.  Shore  enuf  Jim  stepped 
up  defiantly,  and  lookin'  me  rite  in  the  eye,  says  he, 
'*  I  dare  anybody  to  hit  that,"  and  he  touched  his 
knuckles  to  his  forrerd.  He  had  barely  straitened 
before  I  took  him  rite  in  the  left  eye  with  a  sock- 
dolyger  that  popped  like  a  wagin'  whip.  It  turned 
him  half  round,  and  as  quick  as  lightnin'  I  let  him 
hav  another  on  the  right  temple,  and  followed  it  up 
with  a  leap  that  sprawded  him  as  flat  as  a  foot  mat. 
I  knowed  my  customer,  and  I  never  giv  him  time 
to  rally.  If  ever  a  man  was  diligent  in  business  it 
was  me.  I  took  him  so  hard  and  so  fast  in  the  eyes 
with  my  fists,  and  in  his  bred  basket  with  my  knees, 
that  he  did  n't  hav  a  chance  to  see  or  to  breathe, 
and  he  was  the  worst  whipped  man  in  two  minets  I 
ever  seed  in  my  life.  When  he  hollered  I  helped 
him  up  and  breshed  the  dirt  off  his  clothes,  and  he 
was  as  umble  as  a  ded  nigger  and  as  sober  as  a 
Presbyterian  Preacher.  We  took  a  dram  on  the 
strength  of  it,  and  was  always  good  frends  after- 
wards. 

But  I  dident  start  to  tell  you  about  that. 

JIM  PERKINS  (cousin  of  Eli). 

I  jist  wanted  to  say  that  I  wasent  mad  with  Jim 
Allcorn,  as  sum  peepul  supposed  ;  but  it  do  illus- 
trate the  onsertainty  of  human  kalkulashuns  in  this 
subloonery  world.  The  disappintments  of  life  are 
amazin',  and  if  a  man  wants  to  fret  and  grumble  at 
his  luck  he  can  find  a  reesunable  oppertunity  to  do 
so  every  day  that  he  lives.  Them  sort  of  constitu- 
tional grumblers  ain't  much  cumpany  to  me.  I  'd 
rather  be  Jim  Perkins  with  a  bullit  hole  through  me 


BILL  ARP.  295 

and  take  my  chances.  Jim,  you  know,  was  shot 
down  at  Gains'  Mill,  and  the  ball  went  in  at  the  um- 
bilikus,  as  Dr.  Battey  called  it,  and  cum  out  at  the 
backbone.  The  Doktor  sounded  him,  and  sez  he, 
"Jeems,  my  friend,  your  wound  is  mortal."  Jim 
looked  at  the  Doktor,  and  then  at  me,  and  sez  he, 
"  That  's  bad,  ain't  it  t "  '*  Mighty  bad,"  sez  I,  and  I 
was  as  sorry  for  him  as  I  ever  was  for  anybody  in 
my  life.  Sez  he,  "  Bill,  I  'd  make  a  will  if  it  warn't 
for  one  thing."  ''What's  that,  Jim.?"  sez  I.  He 
sorter  smiled  and  sez,  "  I  hain't  got  nuthin'  to  will." 
He  then  raised  up  on  his  elbow,  and  sez  he,  *'  Dok- 
tor, is  there  one  chance  in  a  hundred  for  me  .-*  "  and 
the  Doktor  sez,  "Jest  about,  Jim."  '' Well,  then,"  sez 
he,  "  I  '11  git  well  —  I  feel  it  in  my  gizzard."  He 
looked  down  at  the  big  hole  in  his  umbilikus,  and 
sez  he,  '*  If  I  do  git  well,  won't  it  be  a  great  naval 
viktry,  Doktor  Battey  't  "  Well,  shore  enuff  he  did 
git  well,  and  in  two  months  he  was  a  fitin'  the  Yanks 
away  up  in  Maryland. 

But  I  did  n't  start  to  tell  you  about  that. 

KE    MACKOY. 

I  jest  stuck  it  in  by  way  of  illustratin'  the  good 
effeks  of  keepin'  up  one's  spirits.  My  motto  has 
always  been  to  never  say  die,  as  Gen.  Nelson  sed  at 
the  battle  of  Madagascar,  or  sum  other  big  river. 
All  things  considered,  I  've  had  a  power  of  good 
luck  in  my  life.  I  don't  mean  money  luck,  by  no 
means,  for  most  of  my  life  I  've  been  so  ded  poor  that 
Lazarus  would  hev  been  considered  a  note  shaver 
compared  with  me.  But  I  've  been  in  a  heap  of 
close  places,  and  sumhow  always  cum  out  rite  side 
up  with  keer.     Speakin'  of  luck,  I  don't  know  that 


296  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

I  ever  told  you  about  that  rasscl  I  had  with  Ike  Mo 
Koy  at  Bob  Hide's  barbyku.  You  see  Ike  was  per- 
haps the  best  rasler  in  all  Cherokee,  and  he  jest 
hankered  after  a  chance  to  break  a  bone  or  two  in 
my  body.  Now,  you  know,  I  never  hunted  for  a  fite 
nor  a  fuss  in  my  life,  but  I  never  dodged  one.  I 
dident  want  a  tilt  with  Ike,  for  my  opinyun  was  that 
he  was  the  best  man  of  the  two,  but  I  never  sed 
anything  and  jest  trusted  to  luck.  We  was  both  at 
the  barbyku,  and  he  put  on  a  heap  of  airs,  and 
strutted  around  with  his  shirt  collar  open  clean 
down  to  his  waist,  and  his  hat  cocked  on  one  side 
as  sassy  as  a  confedrit  quartermaster.  He  took  a 
dram  or  two  and  stuffed  himself  full  of  fresh  meat 
at  dinner  time.  Purty  soon  it  was  norated  around 
that  Ike  was  going  to  banter  me  for  a  rassel,  and, 
shore  enuff,  he  did.  The  boys  were  all  up  for  sum 
fun,  and  Ike  hollered  out,  ''  I  '11  bet  ten  dollars  I  can 
paster  the  length  of  any  man  on  the  ground,  and  I  '11 
giv  Bill  Arp  five  dollars  to  take  up  the  bet."  Of 
course  there  was  no  gittin'  around  the  like  of  that 
The  banter  got  my  blood  up,  and  so,  without  waitin' 
for  preliminaries,  I  shucked  myself  and  went  ia 
The  boys  was  all  powerfully  excited,  and  was  a 
bettin'  evry  dollar  they  could  raise  ;  and  Bob  Moore, 
the  feller  I  had  licked  about  a  year  before,  jumped 
on  a  stump  and  sed  hed  bet  twenty  dollars  to  ten 
that  Ike  would  knock  the  breath  out  of  me  the  first 
fall.  I  jest  walked  over  to  him  with  the  money  and 
sed,  "  I  '11  take  that  bet."  The  river  was  right  close 
to  the  ring,  and  the  bank  was  purty  steep.  I  had  on 
a  pair  of  old  breeches  that  had  been  sained  in  and 
dried  so  often  they  was  about  half  rotten.  When 
we  hitched,  Ike  took  good  britches  hold,  and  lifted 


BILL   ARP.  297 

me  up  and  down  a  few  times  like  I  was  a  child.  He 
was  the  heaviest,  but  I  had  the  most  spring  in  me, 
and  so  I  jest  let  him  play  round  for  sum  time,  limber 
like,  until  he  suddenly  took  a  notion  to  make  short 
work  of  it  by  one  of  his  backleg  movements.  He 
drawed  me  up  to  his  body  and  lifted  me  in  the  air 
with  a  powerful  twist.  Just  at  that  minit  his  back 
was  close  to  the  river  bank,  and  as  my  feet  touched 
the  ground  I  giv  a  tremenjius  jerk  backwards,  and 
a  shuv  fowards,  and  my  britches  busted  plum  open 
on  the  back,  and  tore  clean  off  in  front,  and  he  fell 
from  me  and  tumbled  into  the  water,  kerchug,  and 
went  out  of  sight  as  clean  as  a  mud  turtle  in  a  mill 
pond.  Such  hollerin'  as  them  boys  done  I  rekon 
never  was  heard  in  them  woods.  I  jumped  in  and 
helped  Ike  get  out  as  he  riz  to  the  top.  He  had 
took  in  a  quart  or  two  of  water  on  top  of  his  bar- 
byku,  and  he  set  on  the  bank  and  throwd  up  enuf 
vittels  to  feed  a  pack  of  houns  for  a  week.  When  he 
got  over  it  he  laffd,  and  sed  Sally  told  him  before  he 
left  home  he  'd  better  let  Bill  Arp  alone  —  for  no- 
body could  run  agin  his  luck.  Ike  always  believed 
he  would  hav  throwd  me  if  britches  holt  hadent 
broke,  and  I  rekon  may  be  he  would.  One  thing  is 
sertin,  it  cured  him  of  braggin',  and  that  helps  any- 
body. I  never  did  like  a  braggin'  man.  As  a  genrul 
thing  they  ain't  much  akkount,  and  remind  me  of  a 
dog  I  used  to  have,  named  Cesar. 

DOGS. 

But  I  dident  start  to  tell  you  a  dog  story  —  only 
now,  since  I  've  mentioned  him,  I  must  tell  you  a 
circumstance  about  Cees.  He  was  a  middlin'  size 
broot,  with  fox  ears  and  yaller  spots  over  his  eyes, 


298  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

and  could  out  bark  and  out  brag  all  creation  when 
he  was  inside  the  yard.  If  another  dog  was  goin' 
along  he  'd  run  up  and  down  the  palins  and  bark 
and  take  on  like  he  'd  give  the  world  if  that  fence 
wasent  there.  So  one  day  when  he  was  showin'  off 
in  that  way  I  caught  him  by  the  nap  of  the  neck  as 
he  run  by  me,  and  jest  histed  him  right  over  and 
drapped  him.  He  struck  the  ground  like  an  injun 
rubber  ball,  and  was  back  agin  on  my  side  in  a 
jiffy.  If  he  had  ever  jumped  that  fence  before  I 
dident  know  it.  The  other  dog  run  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  without  stoppin'.  Now,  that  's  the  way  with 
sum  foaks.  If  you  want  to  hear  war  tawk  jest  put  a 
fence  between  em ;  and  if  you  want  it  stopped,  jest 
take  the  fence  away.  Dogs  is  mighty  like  peepul 
anyhow.  They  've  got  karacter.  Sum  of  em  are 
good  honest,  trusty  dogs  that  bark  mity  little,  and  bite 
at  the  right  time.  Sum  are  good  pluk,  and  will  fite 
like  the  dickens  when  their  masters  is  close  by  to 
back  em,  but  ain't  worth  a  cent  by  themselves.  Sum 
make  it  a  bizness  to  make  other  dogs  fite.  You  've 
seen  these  little  fices  a  runnin'  around  growlin'  and 
snappin'  when  two  big  dogs  cum  together.  They 
are  jest  as  keen  to  get  up  a  row  and  see  a  big  dog 
fite  as  a  store  clerk  or  a  shoemaker,  and  seem  to  en- 
joy it  as  much.  And  then,  there's  them  mean  yaller 
eyed  bull  terriers  that  don't  care  who  they  bite,  so 
they  bite  sumbody.  They  are  no  respekter  of  persons, 
and  I  never  had  much  respekt  for  a  man  who  kept 
one  on  his  premises.  But  of  all  mean,  triflin',  con- 
temptible dogs  in  the  world,  the  meanest  of  all  is  a 
country  nigger's  houn  —  one  that  will  kill  sheep,  and 
suck  eggs,  and  lick  the  skillet,  and  steal  evrything  he 
can  find,  and  try  to  do  as  nigh  like  his  master  as  pos- 


BILL  ARP.  299 

sibul.  Sum  dogs  are  filosofers,  and  study  other  dogs' 
natur,  just  like  foaks  study  foaks.  It  's  amazin'  to 
see  a  town  dog  trot  up  to  a  country  dog  and  inter- 
view him.  How  quick  he  finds  out  whether  it  will 
do  to  attack  him  or  not.  If  the  country  dog  shows 
fite  jest  notis  the  consequential  dignity  with  which 
the  town  dog  retires.  He  goes  off  like  there  was  a 
sudden  emergency  of  bisness  a  callin'  him  away. 
Town  dogs  sumtimes  combine  agin  a  country  dog, 
jest  like  town  boys  try  to  run  over  country  boys.  I 
wish  you  could  see  Dr.  Miller's  dog  Cartoosh.  He 
jest  lays  in  the  piazzer  all  day  watchin'  out  for  a  stray 
dog,  and  as  soon  as  he  sees  him  he  goes  for  him,  and 
he  can  tell  in  half  a  minit  whether  he  can  whip  him 
or  run  him  ;  and  if  he  can,  he  does  it  instanter,  and 
if  he  can't,  he  runs  to  the  next  yard,  where  there  's 
two  more  dogs  that  nabor  with  him,  and  in  a  minit 
they  all  cum  a  tarin'  out  together,  and  that  country 
dog  has  to  run  or  take  a  whippin',  shore.  I  've  seen 
Cartoosh  play  that  game  many  a  time.  These  town 
pups  remind  me  powerfully  of  small  editurs  prowlin* 
around  for  news.  In  my  opinyun  they  is  the  inven- 
tors of  the  interview  bisness. 

INTERVIEWERS. 

If  it  ain't  a  doggish  sort  of  bisnes  I  'm  mistaken 
in  my  idees  of  the  proprietes  of  life.  When  a  man 
gits  into  trubble,  these  sub  editurs  go  fur  him  right 
strait,  and  they  force  their  curosity  away  down  into 
his  heart  strings,  and  bore  into  his  buzzom  with  an 
augur  as  hard  and  as  cold  as  chilld  iron.  Then 
away  they  go  to  skatter  his  feelins  and  sekrets  to 
the  wide,  wide  world.  You  see  the  poor  feller  can't 
help  himself,  for  if  he  won't  talk  they  'II  go  off  and 


300  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

slander  him,  and  make  the  publik  beleeve  he  's  dun 
sumthing  mean,  and  is  ashamed  to  own  it.  I  've 
knowd  em  to  go  into  a  dungeon  and  interview  a 
man  who  dident  have  two  hours  to  live.  Dod  rot 
em.  I  wish  one  of  em  would  try  to  interview  me. 
If  he  dident  catch  leather  under  his  coat  tail  it 
would  be  bekaus  he  retired  prematurely  —  that 's 
all.  But  I  like  editurs  sorter  —  especially  sum.  I 
like  them  that  is  the  guardeens  of  sleepin'  liberty, 
and  good  morals,  and  publik  welfare,  and  sich  like  ; 
but  there  's  sum  kinds  I  don't  like.  Them  what 
makes  sensation  a  bizness  ;  feedin'  the  peepul  on 
skandal,  and  crime,  and  gossip,  and  private  quar-, 
rels,  and  them  what  levies  black  mail  on  polytiks, 
and  won't  go  for  a  man  who  won't  pay  em,  and 
will  go  for  a  man  that  will.  Them  last  watch  for 
elekshun  times  jest  like  a  sick  frog  waitin'  for  rain. 

As  Bill  Nations  used  to  say,  I  'd  drather  be  a  lu- 
niak  and  gnaw  chains  in  an  asylum,  than  to  be  an 
editur  that  evrybody  feard  and  nobody  respekted. 

BILL   NATIONS. 

You  never  knowd  Bill,  I  rekun.  Hes  gone  to  Ar- 
kensaw,  and  I  don't  know  whether  hes  ded  or  alive. 
He  was  a  good  feller,  Bill  was,  as  most  all  whisky 
drinkers  are.  Me  and  him  both  used  to  love  it  pow- 
erful —  especially  Bill.  We  soaked  it  when  we  could 
git  it,  and  when  we  coudent  we  hankered  after  it 
amazingly.  I  must  tell  you  a  little  antidote  on  Bill, 
tho  I  dident  start  to  tell  you  about  that. 

We  started  on  a  little  jurney  one  day  in  June,  and 
took  along  a  bottle  of  ''old  rye,"  and  there  was  so 
many  springs  and  wells  on  the  road  that  it  was 
mighty    nigh   gone   before   dinner.      We   took    our 


BILL   ARP.  301 

snack,  and  Bill  drained  the  last  drop,  for  he  said 
we  would  soon  git  to  Joe  Paxton's,  and  that  Joe  al- 
ways kept  some. 

Shore  enuff  Joe  dident  have  a  drop,  and  we  con- 
cluded, as  we  was  mighty  dry,  to  go  on  to  Jim  Al- 
ford's,  and  stay  all  night.  We  knew  that  Jim  had  it, 
for  he  always  had  it.  So  we  whipped  up,  and  the 
old  Bay  had  to  travel,  for  I  tell  you  when  a  man 
wants  whiskey  everything  has  to  bend  to  the  gittin' 
of  it.  Shore  enuff  Jim  had  some.  He  was  mity 
glad  to  see  us,  and  he  knovvd  what  we  wanted,  for 
he  knowd  how  it  was  hisself.  So  he  brought  out  an 
old  fashend  glass  decanter,  and  a  shugar  bowl,  and 
a  tumbler,  and  a  spoon,  and  says  he,  "  Now,  boys,  jest 
wait  a  minit  till  you  git  rested  sorter,  for  it  ain't 
good  to  take  whiskey  on  a  hot  stomack.  I  've  jest 
been  readiu'  a  piece  in  Grady's  newspaper  about  a 
frog  —  the  darndest  frog  that  perhaps  ever  come 
from  a  tadpole.  It  was  found  up  in  Kanetucky,  and 
is  as  big  as  a  peck  measure.  Bill,  do  you  take  this 
paper  and  read  it  aloud  to  us.  I  'm  a  poor  hand  to 
read,  and  I  want  to  hear  it.  I  '11  be  hanged  if  it  ain't 
the  darndest  frog  I  ever  hearn  of."  He  laid  the  paper 
on  my  knees,  and  I  begun  to  read,  thinkin'  it  was  a 
little  short  anticdote,  but  as  I  turned  the  paper  over 
I  found  it  was  mighty  nigh  a  column.  I  took  a  side 
glance  at  Bill,  and  I  saw  the  little  dry  twitches  a 
jumpin'  about  on  his  countenance.  He  was  mighty 
nigh  dead  for  a  drink.  I  warent  so  bad  off  myself, 
and  I  was  about  half  mad  with  him  for  drainin'  the 
bottle  before  dinner ;  so  I  just  read  along  slow,  and 
stopped  two  or  three  times  to  clear  my  throat  just  to 
consume  time.  Pretty  soon  Bill  got  up  and  com- 
menced walkin'  about,  and  he  would  look  at  the  de- 


3v")J  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

kan^cr  like  he  would  give  his  daylights  to  choke  the 
corn  juice  out  of  it.  I  read  along  slowly.  Old  Al- 
voyd  was  a  listniu'  and  chawin'  his  tobakker  and 
spittin'  out  of  the  door.  Bill  come  up  to  me,  his 
face  red  and  twitchin',  and  leanin'  over  my  shoulder 
he  seed  the  length  of  the  story,  and  I  will  never  for- 
git  his  pityful  tone  as  he  whispered,  **  Skip  some. 
Bill,  for  heaven's  sake  skip  some." 

My  heart  relented,  and  I  did  skip  some,  and  hur- 
ried through,  and  we  all  jined  in  a  drink;  but  I'll 
never  forgit  how  Bill  looked  when  he  whispered  to 
me  to  **  skip  some,  Bill,  skip  some."  I  've  got  over 
the  hke  of  that,  bo^^s,  and  I  hope  Bill  has,  too,  but  I 
don't  know.  I  wish  in  my  soul  that  everybody  had 
quit  it,  for  you  may  talk  about  slavery,  and  peniten- 
tiary, and  chain-gangs,  and  the  Yankees,  and  Gen- 
eral Grant,  and  a  devil  of  a  wife,  but  whiskey  is  the 
worst  master  that  ever  a  man  had  over  him.  I  know 
how  it  is  myself. 

But  there  is  one  good  thing  about  drinkin'.  I  al- 
most wish  every  man  was  a  reformd  drunkard.  No 
man  who  has  n't  drank  liker  knows  what  a  luxury 
cold  water  is.  I  have  got  up  in  the  night  in  cold 
wether  after  I  had  been  spreein'  around,  and  gone 
to  the  well  burnin'  up  with  thirst,  feeling  like  the 
gallows,  and  the  grave,  and  the  infernal  regions  was 
too  good  for  me,  and  when  I  took  up  the  bucket  in 
my  hands,  and  with  my  elbows  a  tremblin'  like  I  had 
the  shakin'  ager,  put  the  water  to  my  lips  ;  it  was 
the  most  delicious,  satisfyin',  luxurius  draft  that 
ever  went  down  my  throat.  I  have  stood  there  and 
drank  and  drank  until  I  could  drink  no  more,  and 
gone  back  to  bed  thankin'  God  for  the  pure,  inno- 
cent, and   coolin'  beverig,  and  cursin'  myself  from 


BILL   ARP.  303 

my  inmost  soul  for  ever  touchin'  the  accursed 
whisky.  In  my  torture  of  mind  and  body  I  have 
made  vows  and  promises,  and  broken  em  within  a 
day.  But  if  you  want  to  know  the  luxury  of  cold 
water,  get  drunk,  and  keep  at  it  until  you  get  on  fire, 
and  then  try  a  bucket  full  with  your  shirt  on  at  the 
well  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  You  won't  want  a 
gourd  full  —  you'll  feel  like  the  bucket  ain't  big 
enuf,  and  when  you  begin  to  drink  an  earthquake 
could  n't  stop  you.  My  fathers,  how  good  it  was  ! 
I  know  a  hundred  men  who  will  swear  to  the  truth 
of  what  I  say  :  but  you  see  its  a  thing  they  don't 
like  to  talk  about.      It 's  too  humiliatin'. 

But  I  dident  start  to  talk  about  drinkin'.  In  fact, 
I  've  forgot  what  I  did  start  to  tell  you.  My  mind 
is  sorter  addled  now  a  days,  anyhow,  and  I  hav  to  jes 
let  my  tawkin  tumble  out  permiskuous.  I  '11  take 
another  whet  at  it  afore  long,  and  fill  up  the  gaps. 


"UNCLE   REMUS." 


The  publication  of  "  Uncle  Remus,  his  Sayings  and  his  Songs,  the 
Folk-Lore  of  the  Old  Plantation,  by  Joel  Chandler  Harris,"  marks 
something  like  the  beginning  of  a  new  era  in  the  provincial  literature 
of  the  South.  It  is  in  all  respects,  in  graphic  power  and  in  spirit,  tone, 
and  color,  the  best  picture  of  negro  life  and  character  which  has  yet 
appeared  in  any  language.  To  the  production  of  this  masterpiece  of 
homely  wisdom  and  humor,  Mr.  Harris  brought  a  genius  for  subtle 
observation  and  a  thorough  sympathy  with  his  theme,  which,  though 
professing  the  photographer's  art  merely,  have  in  reality  created  a  new 
figure  in  fiction.  In  a  carefully  prepared  and  very  suggestive  intro- 
duction to  "  Uncle  Remus,"  Mr.  Harris  says  :  — 

"  I  am  advised  by  my  publishers  that  this  book  is  to  be  included  in  their  catalogue 
of  humorous  publications,  and  this  friendly  warning  gives  me  an  opportunity  to  say 
that,  however  humorous  it  may  be  in  effect,  its  intention  is  perfectly  serious ;  and, 
even  if  it  were  otherwise,  it  seems  to  me  that  a  volume  written  wholly  in  dialect 
must  have  its  solemn,  not  to  say  melancholy,  features.  With  respect  to  the  Folk- 
Lore  series,  my  purpose  has  been  to  preserve  the  legends  themselves  in  their  origi- 
nal simplicity,  and  to  wed  them  permanently  to  the  quaint  dialect — if,  indeed,  it 
can  be  called  a  dialect  —  through  the  medium  of  which  they  have  become  a  part  of 
the  domestic  history  of  every  Southern  family  ;  and  I  have  endeavored  to  give  to  the 
whole  a  genuine  flavor  of  the  old  plantation.  Each  legend  has  its  variants,  but  in 
every  instance  I  have  retained  that  particular  version  which  seemed  to  me  to  be  the 
most  characteristic,  and  have  given  it  without  embellishment  and  without  exaggera- 
tion. The  dialect,  it  will  be  observed,  is  wholly  different  from  that  of  the  Hon. 
Pompey  Smash  and  his  literary  descendants,  and  different  also  from  the  intolerable 
misrepresentations  of  the  minstrel  stage,  but  it  is  at  least  phonetically  genuine. 
Nevertheless,  if  the  language  of  Uncle  Remus  fails  to  give  vivid  hints  of  the  really 
poetic  imagination  of  the  negro  ;  if  it  fails  to  embody  the  quaint  and  homely  humor 
which  was  his  most  prominent  characteristic;  if  it  does  not  suggest  a  certain  pict- 
uresque sensitiveness, —  a  curious  exaltation  of  mind  and  temperament  not  to  be 
defined  by  words,  —  then  I  have  reproduced  the  form  of  the  dialect  merely,  and  not 
the  essence, and  my  attempt  maybe  accounted  a  failure.  At  any  rate,  I  trust  I  ha^e 
been  successful  in  presenting  what  must  be,  at  least  to  a  large  portion  of  American 
readers,  a  new  and  by  no  means  unattractive  phase  of  negro  character,  —  a  phase 
which  may  be  considered  a  curiously  sympathetic  supplement  to  Mrs.  Stowe's  won- 
derful defense  of  slavery  as  it  existed  in  the  South.  Mrs.  Stowe,  let  me  hasten  to 
say,  attacked  the  possibilities  of  slavery  with  all  the  eloquence  of  genius  :  but  the 
same  genius  painted  the  portrait  of  the  Southern  slave-owner,  and  defended  him." 


UNCLE  REMUS.  305 

No  one  can  read  "  Uncle  Remus  "  and  pronounce  the  purpose  thus 
set  forth  a  failure.  On  the  contrary,  Mr.  Harris  has  caught  every  ex- 
pression, every  phase,  every  intonation  of  the  curious  "  sensitive- 
ness "  and  "  exaltation  "  of  the  negro  character,  and  reproduced  them 
to  the  life.  "  The  story  of  the  rabbit  and  the  fox,"  Mr.  Harris  con- 
tinues, "  as  told  by  the  Southern  negroes,  is  artistically  dramatic  in 
this  :  it  progresses  in  an  orderly  way  from  a  beginning  to  a  well-de- 
fined conclusion,  and  is  full  of  striking  episodes  that  suggest  the  cul- 
mination. It  seems  to  me  to  be  to  a  certain  extent  allegorical,  albeit 
such  an  interpretation  may  be  unreasonable.  At  least  it  is  a  fable 
thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  negro  ;  and  it  needs  no  scientific  in- 
vestigation to  show  why  he  selects  as  his  hero  the  weakest  and  most 
harmless  of  all  animals,  and  brings  him  out  victorious  in  contests  with 
the  bear,  the  wolf,  and  the  fox.  It  is  not  virtue  that  triumphs,  but 
helplessness  ;  it  is  not  malice,  but  mischievousness." 

Joel  Chandler  Harris,  the  author  of  this  rare  and  charming  volume, 
is  a  journalist  of  Atlanta,  and  yet  a  young  man,  having  been  born  at 
Eatonton,  in  Georgia,  the  6th  of  December,  1846. 


I. 

UNCLE   REMUS    INITIATES   THE    LITTLE    BOY. 

One  evening  recently,  the  lady  whom  Uncle  Re- 
mus calls  "Miss  Sally"  missed  her  little  seven-year- 
old.  Making  search  for  him  through  the  house  and 
through  the  yard,  she  heard  the  sound  of  voices 
in  the  old  man's  cabin,  and,  looking  through  the 
window,  saw  the  child  sitting  by  Uncle  Remus. 
His  head  rested  against  the  old  man's  arm,  and  he 
was  gazing  with  an  expression  of  the  most  intense 
interest  into  the  rough,  weather-beaten  face  that 
beamed  so  kindly  upon  him.  This  is  what  *'  Miss 
Sally"  heard:  — 

"  Bimeby,  one  day,  arter  Brer  Fox  bin  doin'  all 
dat  he  could  fer  ter  ketch  Brer  Rabbit,  en  Brer  Rab- 
bit bin  doin'  all  he  could  fer  ter  keep  'im  fum  it.  Brer 

Fox  say  to  hisse'f  dat  he  'd  put  up  a  game  on  Brer 

20 


306  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Rabbit,  en  he  ain't  mo'n  got  de  wuds  out'n  his  mouf 
twel  Brer  Rabbit  come  a  lopin'  up  de  big  road,  look- 
in'  des  ez  plump,  en  ez  fat,  en  ez  sassy  ez  a  Moggin 
boss  in  a  barley-patch. 

"  *  Hoi'  on  dar,  Brer  Rabbit,'  sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee. 

"  *  I  ain't  got  time.  Brer  Fox,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit, 
sezee,  sorter  mendin'  his  licks. 

"  *  I  wanter  have  some  confab  wid  you,  Brer  Rab- 
bit,' sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee. 

""  *  All  right.  Brer  Fox,  but  you  better  holler  fum 
whar  you  stan'.  I  'm  monstus  full  er  fleas  dis  mawn- 
in','  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee. 

** '  I  seed  Brer  B'ar  yistiddy,*  sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee, 
*  en  he  sorter  rake  me  over  de  coals  kaze  you  en  me 
ain't  make  frens  en  live  naberly,  en  I  tole  'ipi  dat  I  'd 
see  you.' 

**Den  Brer  Rabbit  scratch  one  year  wid  his  off 
hine-foot  sorter  jub'usly,  en  den  he  ups  en  sez, 
sezee :  — 

"  *  All  a  settin',  Brer  Fox.  Spose'n  you  drap  roun' 
ter-morrer  en  take  dinner  wid  me.  We  ain't  got  no 
great  doin's  at  our  house,  but  I  speck  de  ole  'oman 
en  de  chill uns  kin  sorter  scramble  roun'  en  git  up 
sump'n  fer  ter  stay  yo'  stummuck.' 

" '  I  'm  'gree'ble,  Brer  Rabbit,'  sez  Brer  Fox, 
sezee. 

" '  Den  I  '11  'pen'  on  you,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee. 

"  Nex'  day,  Mr.  Rabbit  an'  Miss  Rabbit  got  up 
soon,  'fo'  day,  en  raided  on  a  gyarden  like  Miss 
Sally's  out  dar,  en  got  some  cabbiges,  en  some  roas'n 
years,  en  some  sparrer-grass,  en  dey  fix  up  a  smash- 
in'  dinner.  Bimeby  one  er  de  little  Rabbits,  playin' 
out  in  the  back-yard,  come  runnin'  in  hollerin',  '  Oh, 
ma  !  oh,  ma  !  I  seed  Mr.  Fox  a  comin' ! '  En  den  Brer 


UNCLE  REMUS.  30/ 

Rabbit  he  tuck  de  chilluns  by  der  years  en  make  um 
set  down,  en  den  him  en  Miss  Rabbit  sorter  dally 
roun'  waitin'  for  Brer  Fox.  En  dey  keep  on  waitin', 
but  no  Brer  Fox  ain't  come.  Atter  'while  Brer  Rab- 
bit goes  to  de  do',  easy  like,  en  peep  out,  en  dar, 
stickin'  out  fum  behime  de  cornder,  wuz  de  tip-een' 
er  Brer  Fox  tail.  Den  Brer  Rabbit  shot  de  do'  en 
sot  down,  en  put  his  paws  behime  his  years  en  begin' 
fer  ter  sing  :  — 

"  '  De  place  wharbouts  you  spill  de  grease, 
Right  dar  youer  boun'  ter  slide, 
An'  whar  you  fine  a  bunch  er  ha'r, 
You  '11  sholy  fine  de  hide.' 

"  Nex  day,  Brer  Fox  sont  word  by  Mr.  Mink,  en 
skuze  hisse'f  kaze  he  wuz  too  sick  fer  ter  come,  en 
he  ax  Brer  Rabbit  fer  ter  come  en  take  dinner  wid 
him,  en  Brer  Rabbit  say  he  wuz  'gree'ble. 

**  Bimeby,  w'en  de  shadders  wuz  at  der  shortes', 
Brer  Rabbit  he  sorter  brush  up  en  santer  down  ter 
Brer  Fox's  house,  en  w'en  he  got  dar  he  yer  some- 
body groanin',  en  he  look  in  de  do',  en  dar  he  see 
Brer  Fox  settin'  up  in  a  rockin'  cheer  all  wrop  up 
wid  flannil,  en  he  look  mighty  weak.  Brer  Rabbit 
look  all  'roun',  he  did,  but  he  ain't  see  no  dinner. 
De  dish-pan  wuz  settin'  on  de  table,  en  close  by  wuz 
a  kyarvin'  knife. 

"  '  Look  like  you  gwineter  have  chicken  fer  dinner, 
Brer  Fox,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee. 

"  *  Yes,  Brer  Rabbit,  deyer  nice,  en  fresh,  en 
tender,'  sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee. 

**  Den  Brer  Rabbit  sorter  pull  his  mustarsh,  en 
say  :  *  You  ain't  got  no  calamus  root,  is  you,  Brer 
Fox  t  I  done  got  so  now  dat  I  can't  eat  no  chicken 
'ceppin  she  's  seasoned  up  wid  calamus  root.'     En 


308  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

wid  dat  Brer  Rabbit  lipt  out  er  de  do'  and  dodge 
'mong  de  bushes,  eii  sot  dar  watchin'  fer  Brer  Fox ; 
en  he  ain't  watch  long,  nudder,  kaze  Brer  Fox  flung 
off  de  flannil  en  crope  out  er  de  house  en  got  whar 
he  could  cloze  in  on  Brer  Rabbit,  en  bimeby  Brer 
Rabbit  holler  out :  '  Oh,  Brer  Fox  !  I  '11  des  put  yo' 
calamus  root  out  yer  on  dish  yer  stump.  Better 
come  git  it  while  hit 's  fresh,'  and  wid  dat  Brer  Rab- 
bit gallop  off  home.  En  Brer  Fox  ain't  never  kotch 
'im  yet,  en  w'at  's  mo',  honey,  he  ain't  gwineter." 


II. 


THE    WONDERFUL    TAR-BABY   STORY. 

**  Didn't  the  fox  never  catch  the  rabbit,  Uncle 
Remus  ?  "  asked  the  little  boy  the  next  evening. 

**  He  come  mighty  nigh  it,  honey,  sho  's  you  bawn 
—  Brer  Fox  did.  One  day  atter  Brer  Rabbit  fool 
'im  wid  dat  calamus  root,  Brer  Fox  went  ter  wuk  en 
got  'im  some  tar,  en  mix  it  wid  some  turkentime,  en 
fix  up  a  contrapshun  wat  he  call  a  Tar-Baby  ;  en  he 
tuck  dish  yer  Tar-Baby  en  he  sot  'er  in  de  big  road, 
en  den  he  lay  off  in  de  bushes  fer  ter  see  wat  de 
news  wuz  gwineter  be.  En  he  did  n't  hatter  wait 
long,  nudder,  kaze  bimeby  here  come  Brer  Rabbit 
pacin'  down  de  road  —  lippity-clippity,  clippity-lip- 
pity  —  dez  ez  sassy  ez  a  jay -bird.  Brer  Fox,  he  lay 
low.  Brer  Rabbit  come  prancin'  'long  twel  he  spy 
de  Tar-Baby;  en  den  he  fotch  up  on  his  behime  legs 
like  he  wuz  'stonished,  De  Tar-Baby,  she  sot  dar, 
she  did,  en  Brer  Fox,  he  lay  low. 

"  *  Mawnin' ! '  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee  —  '  nice 
wedder  dis  mawnin','  sezee. 


UNCLE   REMUS.  309 

"  Tar-Baby  ain't  sayin'  nuthin',  en  Brer  Fox,  he 
lay  low. 

"  '  How  duz  yo' sym'tums  seem  ter  segashuate?' 
sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee. 

"  Brer  Fox,  he  wink  his  eye  slow,  en  lay  low,  en 
de  Tar-Baby,  she  ain't  sayin'  nuthin'. 

"  '  How  you  come  on,  den  t  Is  you  deaf  ? '  sez 
Brer  Rabbit,  sezee.  '  Kase  if  you  is,  I  kin  holler 
louder,'  sezee. 

"  Tar-Baby  stay  still,  en  Brer  Fox,  he  lay  low. 

" '  Youer  stuck  up,  dat  's  w'at  you  is,'  says  Brer 
Rabbit,  sezee,  'en  I  'm  gwineter  kyore  you,  dat 's 
w'at  I  'm  a  gwineter  do,'  sezee. 

"■  Brer  Fox,  he  sorter  chuckle  in  his  stummuck, 
he  did,  but  Tar-Baby  ain't  sayin'  nuthin'. 

"  *  I  'm  gwineter  larn  you  howter  talk  ter  'spect- 
tubble  fokes  ef  hit 's  de  las'  ack,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit, 
sezee.  *  Ef  you  don't  take  off  dat  hat  en  tell  me 
howdy,  I  'm  gwineter  bus'  you  wide  open,'  sezee. 

** Tar-Baby  stay  still,  en  Brer  Fox,  he  lay  low. 

**  Brer  Rabbit  keep  on  axin'  'im,  en  de  Tar-Baby, 
she  keep  on  sayin'  nuthin',  twel  present'y  Brer  Rab- 
bit draw  back  wid  his  fis',  he  did,  en  blip  he  tuck  'er 
side  er  de  head.  Right  dar  's  whar  he  broke  his 
merlasses  jug.  His  fis'  stuck,  en  he  can't  pull  loose. 
De  tar  hilt  'im.  But  Tar-Baby,  she  stay  still,  en 
Brer  Fox,  he  lay  low. 

"  *  Ef  you  don't  lemme  loose,  I  '11  knock  you  agin,' 
sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee,  en  wid  dat  he  fotch  'er  a  wipe 
wid  de  udder  han',  en  dat  stuck.  Tar-Baby,  she  ain't 
sayin'  nuthin',  en^  Brer  Fox,  he  lay  low. 

''  'Tu'n  me  loose,  fo'  I  kick  de  natal  stuffin'  outen 
you,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee,  but  de  Tar-Baby,  she 
ain't  sayin'  nuthin'.     She  des  hilt  on,  en  den  Brer 


3IO  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Rabbit  lose  de  use  er  his  feet  in  de  same  way.  Brer 
Fox,  he  lay  low.  Den  Brer  Rabbit  squall  out  dat  ef 
de  Tar-Baby  don't  tu'n  'im  loose  he  butt  'er  crank- 
sided.  En  den  he  butted,  en  his  head  got  stuck. 
Den  Brer  Fox,  he  sa'ntered  fort',  lookin'  des  ez  in- 
nercent  ez  wunner  yo'  rrtammy's  mockin'-birds. 

"  *  Howdy,  Brer  Rabbit,'  sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee. 
*  You  look  sorter  stuck  up  dis  mawnin','  sezee,  en 
den  he  rolled  on  de  groun',  en  laft  en  laft  twel  he 
could  n't  laff  no  mo'.  *  I  speck  you  '11  take  dinner 
wid  me  dis  time.  Brer  Rabbit.  I  done  laid  in  some 
calamus  root,  en  I  ain't  gwineter  take  no  skuse,'  sez 
Brer  Fox,  sezee." 

Here  Uncle  Remus  paused,  and  drew  a  two-pound 
yam  out  of  the  ashes. 

"  Did  the  fox  eat  the  rabbit } "  asked  the  little 
boy  to  whom  the  story  had  been  told. 

"  Dat 's  all  de  fur  de  tale  goes,"  replied  the  old 
man.  '*  He  mout,  en  den  agin  he  moutent.  Some 
say  Jedge  B'ar  come  'long  en  loosed  'im  —  some  say 
he  did  n't.  I  hear  Miss  Sally  callin'.  You  better  run 
'long." 

III. 

HOW    MR.    RABBIT   WAS    TOO    SHARP    FOR    MR.    FOX. 

"  Uncle  Remus,"  said  the  little  boy  one  evening, 
when  he  had  found  the  old  man  with  little  or  noth- 
ing to  do,  '*  did  the  fox  kill  and  eat  the  rabbit  when 
he  caught  him  with  the  Tar-Baby  } " 

"  Law,  honey,  ain't  I  tell  you  'bout  dat }  "  replied 
the  old  darkey,  chuckling  slyly.  **I  'clar  ter  grashus 
I  ought  'er  tole  you  dat,  but  ole  man  Nod  wuz  ridin 
on  my  eyeleds  'twel  a  leetle  mo'n  I  'd  a  dis'mem- 


UNCLE  REMUS.  3II 

ber'd  my  own  name,  en  den  on  to  dat  here  come  yo* 
mammy  hollerin'  atter  you. 

**  Wat  I  tell  you  w'en  I  fus'  begin  ?  I  tole  you 
Brer  Rabbit  wuz  a  monstus  soon  beas'  ;  leas' ways 
dat 's  w'at  I  laid  out  fer  ter  tell  you.  Well,  den, 
honey,  don't  you  go  en  make  no  udder  kalkalashuns, 
kaze  in  dem  days  Brer  Rabbit  en  his  fambly  wuz  at 
de  head  er  de  gang  w'en  enny  racket  wuz  on  han', 
en  dar  dey  stayed.  'Fo'  you  begins  fer  ter  wipe  yo' 
eyes  'bout  Brer  Rabbit,  you  wait  and  see  whar'bouts 
Brer  Rabbit  gwineter  fetch  up  at.  But  dat's  needer 
yer  ner  dar. 

"  W'en  Brer  Fox  fine  Brer  Rabbit  mixt  up  wid  de 
Tar-Baby,  he  feel  mighty  good,  en  he  roll  on  de 
groun'  en  la£f.     Bimeby  he  up'n  say,  sezee  :  — 

*'  'Well,  I  speck  I  got  you  dis  time,  Brer  Rabbit,' 
sezee  :  'maybe  I  ain't,  but  I  speck  I  is.  You  been 
runnin'  roun'  here  sassin'  atter  me  a  mighty  long 
time,  but  I  speck  you  done  come  ter  de  een'  er  de 
row.  You  bin  cuttin'  up  yo'  capers  en  bouncin' 
'roun'  in  dis  naberhood  ontwel  you  come  ter  b'leeve 
yo'se'f  de  boss  er  de  whole  gang.  En  den  youer 
allers  some'rs  whar  you  got  no  bizness,'  sez  Brer 
Fox,  sezee.  '  Who  ax  you  fer  ter  come  en  strike  up 
a  'quaintence  wid  dish  yer  Tar-Baby  t  En  who  stuck 
you  up  dar  whar  you  iz .''  Nobody  in  de  roun' 
worril.  You  des  tuck  en  jam  yo'se'f  on  dat  Tar- 
Baby  widout  waitin'  fer  enny  invite,'  sez  Brer  Fox, 
sezee,  '  en  dar  you  is,  en  dar  you  '11  stay  twel  I  fixes 
up  a  bresh-pile  and  fires  her  up,  kaze  I  'm  gwineter 
bobbycue  you  dis  day,  sho,'   sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee. 

"Den  Brer  Rabbit  talk  mighty  'umble. 

"  '  I  don't  keer  w'at  you  do  wid  me.  Brer  Fox,' 
sezee,    '  so  you  don't  fling  me  in   dat    brier-patch. 


3  I  2  ODDITJES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Roas'  me,  Brer  Fox,'  sezee,  *  but  don't  fling  me  in 
dat  brier-patch,'  sezee. 

" '  Hit  's  so  much  trouble  fer  ter  kindle  a  fier,'  sez 
Brer  Fox,  sezee,  *dat  I  speck  I  '11  hatter  hang  you,' 
sezee. 

"  *  Hang  me  des  ez  high  as  you  please.  Brer  Fox,' 
sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee,  *  but  do  fer  de  Lord's  sake 
don't  fling  me  in  dat  brier-patch,'  sezee. 

"  '  I  ain't  got  no  string,'  sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee,  *  en 
now  I  speck  I  '11  hatter  drown  you,'  sezee. 

''  'Drown  me  des  ez  deep  ez  you  please,  Brer  Fox,' 
sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee,  '  but  do  don't  fling  me  in  dat 
brier-patch,'  sezee. 

"  *  Dey  ain't  no  water  nigh,'  sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee, 
*  en  now  I  speck  I  '11  hatter  skin  you,'  sezee. 

"  '  Skin  me,  Brer  Fox,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee, 
'snatch  out  my  eyeballs,  t'ar  out  my  years  by  de 
roots,  en  cut  off  my  legs,'  sezee,  '  but  do  please. 
Brer  Fox,  don't  fling  me  in  dat  brier-patch,'  sezee. 

"  Co'se  Brer  Fox  wanter  hurt  Brer  Rabbit  bad  ez 
he  kin,  so  he  cotch  'im  by  de  behime  legs  en  slung 
'im  right  in  de  middle  er  de  brier-patch.  Dar  wuz 
a  considerbul  flutter  wdiar  Brer  Rabbit  struck  de 
bushes,  en  Brer  Fox  sorter  hang  'roun'  fer  ter  see 
w'at  wuz  gvvineter  happen.  Bimeby  he  hear  some- 
body call  'im,  en  way  up  de  hill  he  see  Brer  Rabbit 
settin'  cross-legged  on  a  chinkapin  log  koamin'  de 
pitch  outen  his  har  wid  a  chip.  Den  Brer  Fox  know 
dat  he  bin  swop  off  mighty  bad.  Brer  Rabbit  wuz 
bleedzed  fer  ter  fling  back  some  er  his  sass,  en  he 
holler  out  :  — 

"'Bred  en  bawn  in  a  brier-patch.  Brer  Fox  —  bred 
en  bawn  in  a  brier-patch  !  '  en  wid  dat  he  skip  out 
des  ez  lively  ez  a  cricket  in  de  embers." 


UNCLE  REMUS.  313 


IV. 


MR.    RABBIT   GROSSLY   DECEIVES    MR.    FOX. 

One  evening,  when  the  little  boy,  whose  nights 
with  Uncle  Remus  are  as  entertaining  as  those  Ara- 
bian ones  of  blessed  memory,  had  finished  supper 
and  hurried  out  to  sit  with  his  venerable  patron,  he 
found  the  old  man  in  great  glee.  Indeed,  Uncle 
Remus  was  talking  and  laughing  to  himself  at  such 
a  rate  that  the  little  boy  was  afraid  he  had  company. 
The  truth  is.  Uncle  Remus  had  heard  the  child  com- 
ing, and,  when  the  rosy-cheeked  chap  put  his  head 
in  at  the  door,  was  engaged  in  a  monologue,  the 
burden  of  which  seemed  to  be  — 

«'  Ole  Molly  Har', 
Wat  you  doin'  dar, 
Settin'  in  de  cornder 
Smokin'  yo'  seegyar  ? " 

As  a  matter  of  course  this  vague  allusion  re- 
minded the  little  boy  of  the  fact  that  the  wicked 
Fox  was  still  in  pursuit  of  the  Rabbit,  and  he  im- 
mediately put  his  curiosity  in  the  shape  of  a  ques- 
tion. 

"  Uncle  Remus,  did  the  Rabbit  have  to  go  clean 
away  when  he  got  loose  from  the  Tar-Baby  .-*  " 

"  Bless  grashus,  honey,  dat  he  did  n't.  Who } 
Him }  You  dunno  nuthin'  'tall  'bout  Brer  Rabbit 
ef  dat 's  de  way  you  puttin'  'im  down.  Wat  he  gwine 
'way  fer }  He  mouter  stayed  sorter  close  twel  de 
pitch  rub  off  'n  his  ha'r,  but  twer  n't  menny  days 
'fo'  he  wuz  lopin'  up  en  down  de  naberhood  same  ez 
ever,  en  I  dunno  ef  he  wer  n't  mo'  sassier  dan  befo' 

''Seem   like  dat  de  tale  'bout  how  he  got  mixt 


314  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

up  wid  de  Tar-Baby  got  'roun'  'mongst  de  nabers. 
Leas' ways,  Miss  Meadows  en  de  gals  got  win'  un' 
it,  en  de  nex'  time  Brer  Rabbit  paid  um  a  visit  Miss 
Meadows  tackled  'im  'bout  it,  en  de  gals  sot  up  a 
monstus  gigglement.  Brer  Rabbit,  he  sot  up  des 
ez  cool  ez  a  cowcumber,  he  did,  en  let  'em  run  on." 

"  Who  was  Miss  Meadows,  Uncle  Remus  ?  "  in- 
quired the  little  boy. 

"  Don't  ax  me,  honey.  She  wuz  in  de  tale,  Miss 
Meadows  en  de  gals  wuz,  en  de  tale  I  give  you  like 
hi't  wer'  gun  ter  me.  Brer  Rabbit,  he  sot  dar,  he 
did,  sorter  lam'  like,  en  den  bimeby  he  cross  his 
legs,  he  did,  and  wink  his  eye  slow,  en  up  en  say, 
sezee :  — 

'' '  Ladies,  Brer  Fox  wuz  my  daddy's  ridin'-hoss 
fer  thirty  year  ;  maybe  mo',  but  thirty  year  dat  I 
knows  un,'  sezee  ;  en  den  he  paid  um  his  'specks, 
en  tip  his  beaver,  en  march  off,  he  did,  des  ez  stiff 
en  ez  stuck  up  ez  a  fire-stick. 

"  Nex'  day,  Brer  Fox  cum  a  callin',  and  w'en  he 
gun  fer  ter  laff  'bout  Brer  Rabbit,  Miss  Meadows  en 
de  gals,  dey  ups  en  tells  'im  'bout  w'at  Brer  Rabbit 
say.  Den  Brer  Fox  grit  his  toof  sho'  nuff,  he  did,  en 
he  look  mighty  dumpy,  but  w'en  he  riz  fer  ter  go  he 
up  en  say,  sezee  :  — 

" 'Ladies,  I  ain't  'sputin'  w'at  you  say,  but  I'll 
make  Brer  Rabbit  chaw  up  his  words  en  spit  um 
out  right  yer  whar  you  kin  see  'im,'  sezee,  en  wid 
dat  off  Brer  Fox  marcht. 

"  En  w'en  he  got  in  de  big  road,  he  shuck  de 
dew  off  'n  his  tail,  en  made  a  straight  shoot  fer  Brer 
Rabbit's  house.  W'en  he  got  dar.  Brer  Rabbit  wuz 
spectin'  un  'im,  en  de  do'  wuz  shet  fas'.  Brer  Fox 
knock.     Nobody  ain't  ans'er.    Brer  Fox  knock.    No- 


UNCLE   REMUS.  315 

body  ans'er.      Den  he  knock  agin  —  blam  !   blam ! 
Den  Brer  Rabbit  holler  out  mighty  weak  :  — 

"  '  Is  dat  you,  Brer  Fox  ?  I  want  you  ter  run  en 
fetch  de  doctor.  Dat  bait  er  pusly  w'at  I  e't  dis 
mawnin'  is  gittin'  'way  wid  me.  Do,  please.  Brer 
Fox,  run  quick,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee. 

"  '  I  come  atter  you.  Brer  Rabbit,'  sez  Brer  Fox, 
sezee.  '  Dere  's  gwineter  be  a  party  up  at  Miss 
Meadows's,'  sezee.  '  All  de  gals  '11  be  dere,  en  I 
promus'  dat  I  'd  fetch  you.  De  gals,  dey  'lowed  dat 
hit  would  n't  be  no  party  'ceppin'  I  fotch  you,'  sez 
Brer  Fox,  sezee. 

"  Den  Brer  Rabbit  say  he  wuz  too  sick,  en  Brer 
Fox  say  he  wuzzent,  en  dar  dey  had  it  up  and  down, 
'sputin'  en  contendin'.  Brer  Rabbit  say  he  can't 
walk.  Brer  Fox  say  he  tote  'im.  Brer  Rabbit  say 
how  }  Brer  Fox  say  in  his  arms.  Brer  Rabbit  say 
he  drap  'im.  Brer  Fox  'low  he  won't.  Bimeby 
Brer  Rabbit  say  he  go  ef  Brer  Fox  tote  'im  on  his 
back.  Brer  Fox  say  he  would.  Brer  Rabbit  say  he 
can't  ride  widout  a  saddle.  Brer  Fox  say  he  git  de 
saddle.  Brer  Rabbit  say  he  can't  set  in  saddle  less 
he  have  bridle  fer  ter  hoi'  by.  Brer  Fox  say  he  git 
de  bridle.  Brer  Rabbit  say  he  can't  ride  widout 
bline  bridle,  kaze  Brer  Fox  be  shyin'  at  stumps  'long 
de  road,  en  fling  'im  off.  Brer  Fox  say  he  git  bline 
bridle.  Den  Brer  Rabbit  say  he  go.  Den  Brer  Fox 
say  he  ride  Brer  Rabbit  mos'  up  ter  Miss  Meadows's, 
en  den  he  could  git  down  en  walk  de  balance  er  de 
way.  Brer  Rabbit  'greed,  en  den  Brer  Fox  lipt  out 
atter  de  saddle  en  de  bridle. 

"  Co'se  Brer  Rabbit  know  de  game  dat  Brer  Fox 
wuz  fixin'  fer  ter  play,  en  he  'termin'  fer  ter  outdo 
'im,  en  by  de  time  he  koam  his   ha'r  en  twis'  his 


3l6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

mustarsh,  en  sorter  rig  up,  yer  come  Brer  Fox, 
saddle  en  bridle  on,  en  lookin'  ez  peart  ez  a  circus 
pony.  He  trot  up  ter  de  do'  en  stan'  dar  pawin'  de 
ground  en  chompin'  de  bit  same  like  sho  'nuff  boss, 
en  Brer  Rabbit  he  mount,  he  did,  en  dey  amble  off. 
Brer  Fox  can't  see  behime  wid  de  bline  bridle  on,  but 
bimeby  he  feel  Brer  Rabbit  raise  one  er  his  foots.  - 

"  *  Wat  you  doin'  now.  Brer  Rabbit  ? '  sezee. 

" '  Short'nin'  de  lef  stir'p.  Brer  Fox,'  sezee. 

"  Bimeby  Brer  Rabbit  raise  up  the  udder  foot. 

"  *  Wat  you  doin'  now.  Brer  Rabbit  t '  sezee. 

"'Pullin'  down  my  pants,  Brer  Fox,'  sezee. 

*'A11  de  time,  bless  grashus,  honey.  Brer  Rabbit 
wer  puttin'  on  his  spurrers,  en  w'en  dey  got  close  to 
Miss  Meadows's  whar  Brer  Rabbit  wuz  to  git  off,  en 
Brer  Fox  made  a  motion  fer  ter  stan'  still.  Brer  Rab- 
bit slap  de  spurrers  into  Brer  Fox  flanks,  en  you 
better  b'leeve  he  got  over  groun'.  W'en  dey  got 
ter  de  house,  Miss  Meadows  en  all  de  gals  wuz 
settin'  on  de  peazzer,  en  stidder  stoppin'  at  de  gate, 
Brer  Rabbit  rid  on  by,  he  did,  en  den  come  gallopin' 
down  de  road  en  up  ter  de  hoss-rack,  w'ich  he  hitch 
Brer  Fox  at,  en  den  he  santer  inter  de  house,  he  did, 
en  shake  ban's  wid  de  gals,  en  set  dar,  smokin'  his 
seegyar  same  ez  a  town  man.  Bimeby  he  draw  in 
long  puff,  en  den  let  hit  out  in  a  cloud,  en  squar 
hisse'f  back  en  holler  out,  he  did :  — 

*'  *  Ladies,  ain't  I  done  tell  you  Brer  Fox  wuz  de 
ridin'-hoss  fer  our  fambly  .-*  He  sorter  losin'  his  gait' 
now,  but  I  speck  I  kin  fetch  'im  all  right  in  a  mont' 
er  so,'  sezee. 

"  En  den  Brer  Rabbit  sorter  grin,  he  did,  en  de 
gals  giggle,  en  Miss  Meadows,  she  praise  up  de 
pony,  en  dar  wuz  Brer  Fox  hitch  fas'  ter  de  rack,  en 
could  n't  he'p  hisse'f." 


UNCLE  REMUS.  317 

"  Is  that  all,  Uncle  Remus  ?"  asked  the  little  boy 
as  the  old  man  paused. 

*'Dat  ain't  all,  honey,  but  't  won't  do  fer  ter  give 
out  too  much  cloff  fer  ter  cut  one  pa'r  pants,"  re- 
plied the  old  man  sententiously. 


V. 


MR.    FOX    IS   AGAIN    VICTIMIZED. 

When  *'Miss  Sally's"  little  boy  went  to  Uncle 
Remus  the  next  night  to  hear  the  conclusion  of  the 
adventure  in  which  the  Rabbit  made  a  riding-horse 
of  the  Fox,  to  the  great  enjoyment  and  gratification 
of  Miss  Meadows  and  the  girls,  he  found  the  old 
man  in  a  bad  humor. 

"  I  ain't  tellin'  no  tales  ter  bad  chilluns,"  said 
Uncle  Remus,  curtly. 

"  But,  Uncle  Remus,  I  ain't  bad,"  said  the  little 
boy,  plaintively. 

"  Who  dat  chunkin'  dem  chickens  dis  mawnin'  } 
Who  dat  knockin'  out  fokes's  eyes  wid  dat  Yaller- 
bammer  sling  des  'fo'  dinner  }  Who  dat  sickin'  dat 
pinter  puppy  atter  my  pig  1  Who  dat  scatterin'  my 
ingun  sets  }  Who  dat  flingin'  rocks  on  top  er  my 
house,  w'ich  a  little  mo'  en  one  un  en  would  er  drap 
spang  on  my  head  t  " 

"■  Well,  now.  Uncle  Remus,  I  did  n't  go  to  do  it. 
I  won't  do  so  any  more.  Please,  Uncle  Remus,  if 
you  will  tell  me,  I  '11  run  to  the  house  and  bring  you 
some  tea-cakes." 

"  Seein'  um's  better  'n  hearin'  tell  un  urn,"  replied 
the  old  man,  the  severity  of  his  countenance  relax- 
ing somewhat ;  but  the  little  boy  darted  out,  and  in 


3l8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

a  few  minutes  came  running  back  with  his  pockets 
full  and  his  hands  full. 

'*  I  lay  yo'  mammy  '11  'spishun  dat  de  rats'  stum- 
mucks  is  widenin'  in  dis  naberhood  w'en  she  come 
fer  ter  Count  up  'er  cakes,"  said  Uncle  Remus,  with 
a  chuckle.  "  Deze,"  he  continued,  dividing  the 
cakes  into  two  equal  parts,  **  deze  I  '11  tackle  now, 
en  deze  I  '11  lay  by  fer  Sunday. 

"  Lemme  see.  I  mos'  dis'member  wharbouts  Brer 
Fox  en  Brer  Rabbit  wuz." 

"  The  rabbit  rode  the  fox  to  Miss  Meadows's,  and 
hitched  him  to  the  horse-rack,"  said  the  little  boy. 

**  W'y,  co'se  he  did,"  said  Uncle  Remus.  "  Co'se 
he  did.  Well,  Brer  Rabbit  rid  Brer  Fox  up,  he  did, 
en  tied  'im  to  de  rack,  en  den  sot  out  in  de  peazzer 
wid  de  gals  a  smokin'  er  his  seegyar  wid  mo'  proud- 
ness  dan  wa't  you  mos'  ever  see.  Dey  talk,  en  dey 
sing,  en  dey  play  on  de  peanner,  de  gals  did,  twel 
bimeby  hit  come  time  fer  Brer  Rabbit  fer  to  be 
gwine,  en  he  tell  um  all  good-by,  en  strut  out  to  de 
hoss-rack  same  's  ef  he  wuz  de  king  er  de  patter- 
rollers,^  en  den  he  mount  Brer  Fox  en  ride  off. 

"  Brer  Fox  ain't  sayin'  nuthin'  'tall.  He  des  rack 
off,  he  did,  en  keep  his  mouf  shet,  en  Brer  Rabbit 
know'd  der  wuz  bizness  cookin'  up  fer  him,  en  he 
feel  monstus  skittish.  Brer  Fox  amble  on  twel  he 
git  in  de  long  lane,  outer  sight  er  Miss  Meadows's 
house,  en  den  he  tu'n  loose,  he  did.  He  rip  en  he 
r'ar,  en  he  cuss  en  he  swar ;   he  snort  en  he  cavort." 

1  Patrols.  In  the  country  districts,  order  was  kept  on  the  planta- 
tions at  night  by  the  knowledge  that  they  were  liable  to  be  visited  at 
any  moment  by  the  patrols.  Hence  a  song  current  among  the  ne- 
groes,  the  chorus  of  which  was,  — 

"  Run,  nigger,  run;  patter-roller  ketch  you, — 
Run,  nigger,  run  ;  hit's  almos'  day." 


UNCLE  REMUS.  319 

"What  was  he  doing  that  for,  Uncle  Remus?" 
the  little  boy  inquired. 

"  He  wuz  tryin'  fer  ter  fling  Brer  Rabbit  off'n  his 
back,  bless  yo'  soul  !  But  he  des  might  ez  well  er 
rastle  wid  his  own  shadder.  Every  time  he  hump  his- 
se'f  Brer  Rabbit  slap  de  spurrers  in  'im,  en  dar  dey 
had  it,  up  en  down.  Brer  Fox  fa'rly  to'  up  de  groun', 
he  did,  en  he  jump  so  high  en  he  jump  so  quick  dat 
he  mighty  nigh  snatch  his  own  tail  off.  Dey  kep' 
on  gwine  on  dis  way  twel  bimeby  Brer  Fox  lay  down 
en  roll  over,  he  did,  en  dis  sorter  onsettle  Brer  Rab- 
bit, but  by  de  time  Brer  Fox  got  back  on  his  footses 
agin,  Brer  Rabbit  wuz  gwine  thoo  de  underbresh  mo' 
samer  dan  a  race-hoss.  Brer  Fox  he  lit  out  atter 
'im,  he  did,  en  he  push  Brer  Rabbit  so  close  dat  it 
wuz  'bout  all  he  could  do  fer  ter  git  in  a  holler  tree. 
Hole  too  little  fer  Brer  Fox  fer  ter  git  in,  en  he  hat- 
ter lay  down  en  res'  en  gedder  his  mine  tergedder. 

"  While  he  wuz  layin'  dar,  Mr.  Buzzard  come 
floppin'  long,  en  seein'  Brer  Fox  stretch  out  on  de 
groun',  he  lit  en  view  de  premuses.  Den  Mr.  Buz- 
zard sorter  shake  his  wing,  en  put  his  head  on  one 
side,  en  say  to  hisse'f  like,  sezee  :  — 

"  '  Brer  Fox  dead,  en  I  so  sorry,'  sezee. 

"  *  No,  I  ain't  dead,  nudder,'  sez  Brer  Fox,  sezee. 
*  I  got  ole  man  Rabbit  pent  up  in  yer,'  sezee,  *  en 
I  'm  a  gwineter  git  'im  dis  time,  ef  it  take  twel  Chris'- 
mus,'  sezee. 

"  Den,  atter  some  mo'  palaver.  Brer  Fox  make  a 
bargain  dat  Mr.  Buzzard  wuz  ter  watch  de  hole,  en 
keep  Brer  Rabbit  dar  wiles  Brer  Fox  went  atter  his 
axe.  Den  Brer  Fox,  he  lope  off,  he  did,  en  Mr.  Buz- 
zard, he  tuck  up  his  stan'  at  de  hole.  Bimeby,  w'en 
all  git  still,  Brer  Rabbit  sorter  scramble  down  close 
ter  de  hole,  he  did,  en  holler  out :  — 


320  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  '  Brer  Fox  !     Oh  !  Brer  Fox  ! ' 

"  Brer  Fox  done  gone,  en  nobody  say  nuthin*. 
Den  Brer  Rabbit  squall  out  like  he  wuz  mad  ;  se- 
zee :  — 

'*  *  You  needn't  talk  less  you  wanter,'  sezee  ;  *I 
knows  youer  dar,  en  I  ain't  keerin','  sezee.  *  I  des 
wanter  tell  you  dat  I  wish  mighty  bad  Brer  Tukkey 
Buzzard  wuz  here,'  sezee. 

"  Den  Mr.  Buzzard  try  ter  talk  like  Brer  Fox  :  — 

"  *  Wat  you  want  wid  Mr.  Buzzard  } '  sezee. 

"  *  Oh,  nuthin'  in  'tickler,  'cep'  dere  's  de  fattes' 
gray  squir'l  in  yer  dat  ever  I  see,'  sezee,  *  en  ef  Brer 
Tukkey  Buzzard  wuz  'roun'  he  'd  be  mighty  glad  fer 
ter  git  'im,'  sezee. 

"  *  How  Mr.  Buzzard  gwine  ter  git  'im  }  *  sez  de 
Buzzard,  sezee. 

" '  Well,  dars  a  little  hole  roun'  on  de  udder  side 
er  de  tree,'  sez  Brer  Rabbit,  sezee,  '  en  ef  Brer  Tuk- 
key Buzzard  wuz  here  so  he  could  take  up  his  stan* 
dar,'  sezee,  *  I  'd  drive  dat  squir'l  out,'  sezee. 

"  'Drive  'im  out,  den,'  sez  Mr.  Buzzard,  sezee,  'en 
I  '11  see  dat  Brer  Tukkey  Buzzard  gits  'im,'  sezee. 

"  Den  Brer  Rabbit  kick  up  a  racket,  like  he  wer' 
drivin'  sumpin'  out,  en  Mr.  Buzzard  he  rush  'roun' 
fer  ter  ketch  de  squir'l,  en  Brer  Rabbit,  he  dash  out, 
he  did,  en  he  des  fly  fer  home." 

At  this  point  Uncle  Remus  took  one  of  the  tea- 
cakes,  held  his  head  back,  opened  his  mouth, 
dropped  the  cake  in  with  a  sudden  motion,  looked 
at  the  little  boy  with  an  expression  of  astonishment, 
and  then  closed  his  eyes,  and  begun  to  chew,  mum- 
bling as  an  accompaniment  the  plaintive  tune  of 
"Don't  you  Grieve  atter  Me." 

The  seance  was  over ;  but,  before  the  little  boy 


uncle:  REMUS.  321 

went  into  the  "  big  house,"  Uncle  Remus  laid  his 
rough  hand  tenderly  on  the  child's  shoulder,  and  re- 
marked in  a  confidential  tone  :  — 

*'  Honey,  you  mus'  git  up  soon  Chris'mus  mawnin' 
en  open  de  do'  ;  kase  I  'm  gwineter  bounce  in  on 
Marse  John  en  Miss  Sally,  en  holler  Chris'mus  gif 
des  like  I  useter  endurin'  de  fahmin'  days  fo'  de  war, 
w'en  ole  Miss  wuz  'live.  I  boun'  dey  don't  fergit 
de  ole  nigger,  nudder.  W'en  you  hear  me  callin'  de 
pigs,  honey,  you  des  hop  up  en  onfassen  de  do'.  I 
lay  I  '11  give  Marse  John  wunner  deze  yer  'sprize  par- 
ties." 

VI. 

SONGS  OF  "UNCLE  REMUS." 

REVIVAL    HYMN. 

Oh,  whar  shill  we  go  w'en  de  great  day  comes, 

Wid  de  blowin'  er  de  trumpits  en  de  bangin'  er  de  drums  ? 

How  many  po'  sinners  '11  be  kotched  out  late 

En  fine  no  latch  ter  de  golden  gate  ? 

No  use  fer  ter  wait  twel  ter-morrer  ! 

De  sun  mus  n't  set  on  yo'  sorrer, 

Sin  's  ez  sharp  ez  a  bamboo-brier  — 

Oh,  Lord  !  fetch  de  mo'ners  up  higher  ! 

W'en  de  nashuns  er  de  earf  is  a  stan'in  all  aroun', 
Who  's  a  gwineter   be   choosen  fer  ter  w'ar  de   glory- 
crown  ? 
Who  's  a  gwine  fer  ter  stan'  stiff-kneed  en  bol', 
En  answer  to  der  name  at  de  callin'  er  de  roll  ? 
You  better  come  now  ef  you  comiri'  — 
Ole  Satun  is  loose  en  a  bummin'  — 
De  wheels  er  distruckshun  is  a  hummin'  — 
Oh,  come  'long,  sinner,  ef  you  comin'  1 
21 


322  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

De  song  er  salvashun  is  a  mighty  sweet  song, 

En  de  Pairidise  win'  blow  fur  en  blow  strong, 

En  Aberham's  bosom,  hit  's  saft  en  hit  's  wide, 

En  right  dar  's  de  place  whar  de  sinners  oughter  hide ! 

Oh,  you  nee'nter  be  a  stoppin'  en  a  lookin' ; 

Ef  you  fool  wid  ole  Satun  you  '11  git  took  in  ; 

You  '11  hang  on  de  aidge  en  get  shook  in, 

Ef  you  keep  on  a  stoppin'  en  a  lookin'. 

De  time  is  right  now,  en  dish  yer  's  de  place  — 
Let  de  sun  er  salvashun  shine  squar'  m  yo'  face  j 
Fight  de  battles  er  de  Lord,  fight  soon  en  fight  late, 
En  you  '11  allers  fine  a  latch  ter  de  golden  gate. 

No  use  fer  ter  wait  twel  ter-morrer, 

De  sun  mus  n't  set  on  yo'  sorrer  — 

Sin  's  ez  sharp  ez  a  bamboo-brier, 

Ax  de  Lord  fer  ter  fetch  you  up  higher ! 


CAMP-MEETING   SONG.^ 

Oh,  de  worril  is  roun'  en  de  worril  is  wide  — 

Lord  !  'member  deze  chillun  in  de  mornin'  — 
Hit 's  a  mighty  long  ways  up  de  mountain  side. 
En  dey  ain't  no  place  for  dem  sinners  fer  ter  hide, 
En  dey  ain't  no  place  whar  sin  kin  abide. 
Wen  de  Lord  shill  come  in  de  mornin' ! 
Look  up  en  look  aroun', 
Fling  yo'  burden  on  de  groun'. 
Hit 's  a  gittin'  mighty  close  on  ter  mornin* ! 
Smoove  away  sin's  frown  — 
Retch  up  en  git  de  crown, 
Wat  de  Lord  will  fetch  in  de  mornin* ! 

1  In  the  days  of  slavery,  the  religious  services  held  by  the  negroes 
»vho  accompanied  their  owners  to  the  camp-meetings  were  marvels  of 
earnestness  and  devotion. 


UNCLE  REMUS.  323 

De  han'  er  ridem'shun,  hit  's  hilt  out  ter  you  — 

Lord  !  'member  dem  sinners  in  de  mornin' ! 
Hit  's  a  mighty  pashent  han',  but  de  days  is  but  few. 
Wen  Satun,  he  '11  come  a  demandin'  un  his  due, 
En  de  stiff-neck  sinners  '11  be  smotin'  all  fru  — 
Oh,  you  better  git  ready  fer  de  mornin' ! 
Look  up  en  set  yo'  face 
Todes  de  green  hills  er  grace 
*Fo'  de  sun  rises  up  in  de  mornin'  — 
Oh,  you  better  change  yo'  base, 
Hit  's  yo'  soul's  las'  race 
Fer  de  glory  dat  's  comin'  in  de  mornin' ! 

De  farmer  gits  ready  w'en  de  Ian  's  all  plowed 

Fer  ter  sow  dem  seeds  in  de  mornin'  — 
De  sperrit  may  be  puny  en  de  flesh  may  be  proud, 
But  you  better  cut  loose  fum  de  scoffin'  crowd, 
En  jine  dese  Christuns  w'at  's  a  cryin'  out  loud 
Fer  de  Lord  fer  ter  come  in  de  mornin' ! 
Shout  loud  en  shout  long, 
Let  de  ekkoes  ans'er  strong, 
W'en  de  sun  rises  up  in  de  mornin' ! 
Oh,  you  allers  will  be  wrong 
Twel  you  choose  ter  belong 
Ter  de  Marster  w'at  's  a  comin'  in  de  mornin* ! 


CORN-SHUCKING   SONG. 

Oh,  de  fus  news  you  know  de  day  '11  be  a  breakin'  — 
(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !)  ^ 

An'  de  fier  be  a  burhin'  en'  de  ash-cake  a  bakin', 
(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 

An'  de  hen  '11  be  a  hollerin'  en  de  boss  '11  be  a  wakin'  — 
(Hey  O  !  Hi  O !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 

1  So  far  as  I  know,  "  Bango  "  is  a  meaningless  term,  introduced  on 
account  of  its  sonorous  ruggedness. 


324  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Better  git  up,  nigger,  en  give  yo'se'f  a  shakin'  — 
(Hi  O,  Miss  Sindy  Ann  !) 

Oh,  honey  !  w'en  you  see  dem  ripe  stars  a  fallin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Oh,  honey  !  w'en  you  year  de  rain-crow  a  callin'  — 

(Hey  O !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango !) 
Oh,  honey  !  w'en  you  year  dat  red  calf  a  bawlin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Den  de  day  time  's  comin',  a  creepin'  en  a  crawlin'  — 

(Hi  O,  Miss  Sindy  Ann  !) 

Fer  de  los'  ell  en  yard  -^  is  a  huntin'  fer  de  mornin', 

(Hi  O  !  git  'long !  go  way  !) 
En  she  '11   ketch  up  widdus  'fo'  we  ever  git  dis   corn 
in  — 

(Oh,  go  'way,  Sindy  Ann  !) 

Oh,  honey !  w'en  you  year  dat  tin-horn  a  tootin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Oh,  honey,  w'en  you  year  de  squinch-owl  a  hootin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Oh,  honey  !  w'en  you  year  dem  little  pigs  a  rootin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Right  den  she  's  a  comin'  a  skippin'  en  a  scootin'  — 

(Hi  O,  Miss  Sindy  Ann  !) 

Oh,  honey,  w'en  you  year  dat  roan  mule  whicker  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
W'en  you  see  Mister  Moon  turnin'  pale  en  gittin'  sicker  — ■ 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Den  hit's  time  fer  ter handle  dat  corn  a  little  quicker  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Ef  you  wanter  git  a  smell  er  old  Marster's  jug  er  licker- 

(Hi  O,  Miss  Sindy  Ann  !) 

1  The  sword  and  belt  in  the  constellation  of  Orion. 


UNCLE  REMUS.  325 

Fer  de  los'  ell  en  yard  is  a  huntin'  fer  de  mornin', 

(Hi  O  !  git  'long !  go  'way !) 
En  she  '11  ketch  up  widdus  'fo'  we  ever  git  dis  corn  in  — 

(Oh,  go  'way,  Sindy  Ann  !) 

You  niggers  'cross  dar  !  you  better  stop  your  dancin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
No  use  fer  ter  come  a  flingin'  un  yo'  "  sha'n'ts  "  in  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
No  use  fer  ter  come  a  flingin'  un  yo'   "  can'ts  "  in  — 

(Hey  0  1  Hi  O !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Kaze  dey  ain't  no  time  fer  yo'  pattin'  ner  yo'  prancin'  I 

(Hi  O,  Miss  Sindy  Ann  I) 

Mr.  Rabbit  see  de  Fox,  en  he  sass  um  en  jaws  um  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Mr.  Fox  ketch  de  Rabbit,  en  he  scratch  um  en  he  claws 
um  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
En  he  tar  off  de  hide,  en  he  chaws  um  en  he  gnyaws  um^ 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Same  like  gal  chawin'  sweet  gum  en  rozzum  — 

(Hi  O,  Miss  Sindy  Ann  !) 

Fer  de  los'  ell  en  yard  is  a  huntin'  fer  de  mornin', 

(Hi  O  !  git  'long  !  go  'way !) 
En  she  '11  ketch  up  widdus  'fo'  we  ever  git  dis  corn  in  — 

(Oh,  go  'way,  Sindy  Ann  !) 

Oh,  work  on,  boys !  give  deze  shucks  a  mighty  wringin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
'Fo'  de  boss  come  aroun'  a  dangin'  en  a  dingin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango  !) 
Git  up  en  move  aroun'  !  set  dem  big  ban's  ter  swingin'  — 

(Hey  O  !  Hi  O  !  Up'n  down  de  Bango !) 
Git  up'n  shout  loud  1  let  de  w'ite  folks  year  you  singin'  ! 

(Hi  O,  Miss  Sindy  Ann  !) 


326  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN'  LIFE. 

Fer  de  los'  ell  en  yard  is  a  huntin'  fer  de  mornin' 

(Hi  O  !  git  'long  !  go  'way  !) 
En  she  '11  ketch  up  widdus  'fo'  we  ever  git  dis  corn  in 

(Oh,  go  'way,  Sindy  Ann !) 


THE   PLOUGH-HANDS*   SONG. 

Nigger  mighty  happy  w'en  he  layin'  by  co'n  — 

Dat  sun  's  a  slantin' ; 
Nigger  mighty  happy  w'en  he  year  he  dinner-h'on  — 

Dat  sun  's  a  slantin' ; 
En  he  mo'  happy  still  w'en  de  night  draws  on  — 

Dat  sun  's  a  slantin' ; 
Dat  sun  's  a  slantin'  des  ez  sho  's  you  bo'n  ! 

En  it 's  rise  up,  Primus  !  fetch  anudder  yell : 
Dat  ole  dun  cow  's  des  a  shakin'  up  'er  bell. 
En  de  frogs  chunin'  up  'fo'  de  jew  done  fell : 
Good-night.,  Mr.  Killdee  !    J  wish  you  ?nighiy  well  I 

—  Mr.  Killdee  !    I  wish  you  mighty  well ! 

—  I  wish  you  mighty  well  I 

De  co'n  '11  be  ready  'g'inst  dumplin'  day  — 

Dat  sun  's  a  slantin' ; 
But  nigger  gotter  watch,  en  stick,  en  stay  — 

Dat  sun  's  a  slantin' ; 
Same  ez  de  bee-martin  watchin'  un  de  jay  — 

Dat  sun  's  a  slantin'  ; 
Dat  sun  's  a  slantin'  en  a  slippin'  away ! 

Den  it 's  rise  up,  Primus  !  en  gin  it  t'um  strong  : 
De  cow  's  gwine  home  wid  der  ding-dang-dong  — « 
Sling  in  anudder  tetch  er  de  ole-time  song  : 
Good-night,  Mr.   Whipperwill !  doJi' t  stay  long  ! 

—  Mr.  Whipperivill !  don^t  stay  long  ! 

—  Dofi'i  stay  long/ 


UNCLE  REMUS.  _      32; 


CHRISTMAS    PLAY-SONG. 

Hi  my  rinktum  !     Black  gal  sweet, 

Same  like  goodies  w'at  de  w'ite  folks  eat ; 

Ho  my  Riley  !  don't  you  take  'n  tell  'er  name, 

En  den  ef  sumpin'  happen  you  won't  ketch  de  blame  i 

Hi  my  rinktum  !  better  take  'n  hide  yo'  plum  j 

Joree  don't  holler  eve'y  time  he  fine  a  wum. 

Den  it 's  hi  my  rinktum  ! 
Don't  git  no  udder  man ; 

En  it 's  ho  my  Riley  1 

Fetch  out  Miss  Dilsey  Ann  ! 

Ho  my  Riley  !     Yaller  gal  fine  ; 

She  may  be  yone  but  she  oughter  be  mine  ! 

Hi  my  rinktum  !     Lemme  git  by, 

En  see  w'at  she  mean  by  de  cut  er  dat  eye  1 

Ho  my  Riley  !  better  shet  dat  do'  — 

De  w'ite  folks  '11  b'leeve  we  er  t'arin  up  de  flo*. 

Den  it 's  ho  my  Riley  ! 
Come  a  siftin'  up  ter  me  ! 

En  it 's  hi  my  rinktum  ! 

Dis  de  way  ter  twis'  yo'  knee  ! 

Hi  my  rinktum  !     Ain't  de  eas'  gittin'  red  ? 

De  squinch  owl  shiver  like  he  wanter  go  ter  bed  | 

Ho  my  Riley !  but  de  gals  en  de  boys, 

Des  now  gittin'  so  dey  kin  sorter  make  a  noise. 

Hi  my  rinktum  !  let  de  yaller  gal  'lone  ; 

Niggers  don't  hanker  arter  sody  in  de  pone. 

Den  it 's  hi  mv  rinktum  ! 
Better  try  anudder  plan  ; 

An'  it 's  ho  my  Riley ! 

Trot  out  Miss  Dilsey  Ann  ! 


328  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Ho  my  Riley !     In  de  happy  Chrismus'  time 

De  niggers  shake  der  cloze  a  huntin'  fer  a  dime 

Hi  my  rinktum  !     En  den  dey  shake  der  feet, 

En  greaze  derse'f  wid  de  good  ham  meat. 

Ho  my  Riley  !  dey  eat  en  dey  cram, 

En  bim^by  ole  Miss  '11  be  a  sendin'  out  de  dram. 

Den  it 's  ho  my  Riley  ! 
You  hear  dat,  Sam  ! 

En  it 's  hi  my  rinktum  ! 
Be  a  sendin'  out  de  dram  ! 

11 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES. 


Why  it  is  I  know  not,  but  certain  it  is  that  Georgia,  which  is  made 
the  scene  of  so  much  of  the  humor  of  the  South,  has  furnished  a  very 
large  proportion  of  the  humorists  themselves.  The  author  of  "  Uukes- 
borough  Tales  "  is  a  native  Georgian,  and,  although  he  is  but  just 
coming  into  the  general  notice  of  the  public,  that  original  volume 
made  its  appearance  nearly  ten  years  ago.  It  deserved  prompter 
and  more  cordial  recognition.  The  sketches  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed are  redolent  of  the  rusticity  of  the  South.  They  breathe  the 
very  life  of  the  village,  and  present  us  a  series  of  characters  both  new 
and  naive,  but  whimsically  true  to  the  quaint,  simple,  serio-comic  ex- 
istence, that,  like  a  country  stream,  ran  through  Dixieland  during  the 
years  preceding  the  great  war,  \Yhich,  a  mere  episode  in  the  one  sec- 
tion of  the  Union,  was  a  "  deluge  "  to  the  other  section. 

Richard  M.  Johnston,  the  author  of  these  "  tales,"  was  in  the  old 
time  Professor  of  Belles  Lettres  in  the  University  of  Georgia.  It  does 
not  appear,  however,  that  in  those  days  he  applied  his  brilliantly  de- 
scriptive talents  to  more  than  a  passing  anecdote.  He  is  described 
by  a  recent  writer  in  a  Georgia  newspaper  as  a  great  social  favorite. 
"  Dick  Johnston,  as  he  was  called,"  says  this  writer,  "  a  familiarly 
welcomed  comer  in  every  household  in  middle  Georgia,  not  only 
drilled  them  in  classic  lore,  but  taught  them  manners,  — that  is,  how 
to  behave  at  home  and  abroad,  how  to  be  mindful  of  the  feelings  and 
charitable  of  the  frailties  of  others,  —  and  polished  them  off  with  the 
polite  arts  of  the  drawing-room,  and  the  important  lesson  of  knowing 
how  to  preside  at  the  head  of  a  table  and  carve  a  turkey  without  scat- 
tering the  joints  on  the  floor  and  splashing  the  dressing  upon  the 
clothes  of  the  guests."  And,  pursuing  the  same  strain,  he  gives  the 
following  somewhat  meagre  particulars  :  — 

"  In  the  better  days  before  the  great  trouble  came  upon  Southern 
society,  Dick  Johnston  was  the  favored  guest  at  all  dinner  parties,  and 
the  central  figure  about  which  gathered  lawyers,  jurors,  litigants,  and 
visitors  at  the  country  taverns,  when  the  labors  of  the  former  were 
over  for  the  day,  and  the  night  was  given  to  social  converse  and 


330  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE, 

story-telling.  In  the  ridings  of  two  of  the  judicial  circuits  of  Georgia 
there  was  not  such  a  raconteur  to  be  found  ;  and  this  is  saying  much, 
when  it  is  remembered  that  in  the  days  of  which  we  write  the  bench 
and  bar  of  the  State  were  noted  for  men  of  great  culture  and  intel- 
lectuality, who  flavored  the  dry  readings  of  the  law  with  plentiful 
pinches  of  Attic  salt.  The  young  barrister,  with  his  sheepskin  and 
saddle-bags,  looking  for  courts  and  clients  during  a  tour  of  the  circuit, 
was  made  to  feel  by  the  presence  and  example  of  the  men  with  whom 
he  was  thrown  that  though  the  way  to  fortune  and  eminence  was 
rugged  and  far,  in  the  nightly  symposiums  of  wit  and  humor,  the 
toils,  the  struggles  and  disappointments  of  the  day  might  be  drowned. 
The  necessity  which  swept  away  the  old  homesteads,  the  landmarks 
of  a  noble  race,  the  struggles  for  existence  which  scattered  many 
happy  households,  carried  '  Dick  Johnston '  to  Maryland.  Georgia 
had  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  her  contribution,  and  Maryland 
gained  not  only  an  honored  citizen,  but  an  ornament  to  her  already 
cultivated  society.  Near  Baltimore  he  fixed  his  home,  and  has  de- 
voted himself  with  quiet  success  to  the  cultivation  and  education  of 
youth,  varied  by  an  occasional  tour  abroad  for  recreation  and  health. 
Always  easy,  open,  and  affable,  there  is  nothing  about  the  man  to 
denote  the  student  and  worker  beyond  a  slight  stoop  of  the  shoulders. 
Yet  his  life  has  been  a  busy  one.  In  addition  to  the  daily  duties  of 
his  classes,  he  has  found  time  to  prepare  and  deliver  a  series  of  lect- 
ures upon  the  ancient  and  modern  classics,  and  upon  several  themes 
of  art  and  poetry." 

I. 

HOW   MR.    BILL   WILLIAMS    TOOK   THE   RESPONSIBILITY. 

**  Our  honor  teacheth  us 
That  we  be  bold  in  every  enterprise." 

CHAPTER  I. 

When  Josiah  Lorriby  came  into  our  neighborhood 
to  keep  a  school  I  was  too  young  to  go  to  it  alone. 
Having  no  older  brother  or  sister  to  go  along  with 
me,  my  parents,  although  they  were  desirous  for  me 
to  begin,  were  about  to  give  it  up,  when  fortunately 
it  was  ascertained  that  William  Williams,  a  big  fel- 
low, whose  widowed  mother  resided  near  to  us,  in- 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  33  1 

tended  to  go  for  one  term  and  complete  his  educa- 
tion preparatory  to  being  better  fitted  for  an  object 
of  vast  ambition  which  he  had  in  view.  His  way 
lay  by  our  door,  and  as  he  was  one  of  the  most  ac- 
commodating persons  in  the  world  he  proffered  to 
take  charge  of  me.  Without  hesitation  and  with 
much  gratitude  this  was  accepted,  and  I  was  de- 
livered over  into  his  keeping. 

William  Williams  was  so  near  being  a  man  that 
the  little  boys  used  to  call  him  Mr.  Bill.  I  never 
can  forget  the  stout  homespun  dress-coat  which  he 
used  to  wear,  with  the  big  pockets  opening  horizon- 
tally across  the  outer  side  of  the  skirts.  Many  a 
time,  when  I  was  fatigued  by  walking  or  the  road 
was  wet  with  rains,  have  I  ridden  upon  his  back, 
my  hands  resting  upon  his  shoulders  and  my  feet 
standing  in  those  capacious  pockets.  Persons  who 
have  never  tried  that  way  of  traveling  have  no  just 
idea,  I  will  venture  to  say,  how  sweet  it  is.  Mr. 
Bill  had  promised  to  take  care  of  me,  and  he  kept 
his  word. 

On  the  first  morning  when  the  school  was  opened, 
we  went  together  to  it.  About  one  mile  and  a  half 
distant  stood  the  school-house.  Eighteen  by  twenty 
feet  were  its  dimensions.  It  was  built  of  logs  and 
covered  with  clapboards.  It  had  one  dcor,  and  op- 
posite to  that  a  hole  in  the  wall  two  feet  square, 
which  was  called  the  window.  It  stood  in  the  corner 
of  one  of  our  fields  (having  formerly  been  used  as  a 
fodder-house),  and  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  at  the  foot 
of  which,  overshadowed  by  oak-trees,  was  a  noble 
spring  of  fresh  water.  Our  way  led  us  by  this 
spring.  Just  as  we  reached  it,  Mr.  Bill  pointed  to 
the  summit  and  said:-— 


332  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"Yonder  it  is,  Squire."  ^ 

Mr.  13111  frequently  called  me  Squire,  partly  from 
mere  facetiousness,  and  partly  from  his  respect  for 
my  father,  who  was  a  Justice  of  the  Peace. 

I  did  not  answer.  We  ascended  the  hill,  and  Mr. 
Bill  led  me  into  the  presence  of  the  genius  of  the 
place. 

Mr.  Josiah  Lorriby  was  a  remarkable  man,  at  least 
in  appearance.  He  was  below  the  middle  height,  but 
squarely  built.  His  body  was  good  enough,  but  his 
other  parts  were  defective.  He  had  a  low  flat  head, 
with  very  short  hair  and  very  long  ears.  His  arms 
were  reasonably  long,  but  his  hands  and  legs  were 
disproportionately  short.  Many  tales  were  told  of 
his  feet,  on  which  he  wore  shoes  with  iron  soles. 
He  was  sitting  on  a  split-bottom  chair,  on  one  side 
of  the  fire-place.  Under  him,  with  his  head  peering 
out  between  the  rounds,  sitting  on  his  hind  legs  and 
standing  on  his  fore  legs,  was  a  small  yellow  dog, 
without  tail  or  ears.  This  dog's  name  was  Rum. 
On  the  side  of  the  hearth,  in  another  split-bottom, 
sat  a  tall  raw-boned  woman,  with  the  reddest  eyes 
that  I  have  ever  seen.  This  was  Mrs.  Mehitable, 
Mr.  Lorriby's  wife.  She  had  ridden  to  the  school 
on  a  small  aged  mare,  perfectly  white  and  totally 
blind.     Her  name  was  Kate. 

When  I  had  surveyed  these  four  personages,  — 
this  satyr  of  a  man,  this  tailless  dog,  this  red-eyed 
woman,  and  this  blind  old  mare,  —  a  sense  of  fear  and 
helplessness  came  over  me,  such  as  I  had  never  felt 
before,  and  have  never  felt  since.  I  looked  at  Mr. 
Bill  Williams,  but  he  was  observing  somebody  else, 
and  did  not  notice  me.  The  other  pupils,  eighteen 
or  twenty  in  number,  seemed  to  be  in  deep  medita- 


DUKESBOROUGH   TALES.  333 

tion.  My  eyes  passed  from  one  to  another  of  the 
objects  of  my  dread ;  but  they  became  finally  fast- 
ened upon  the  dog.  His  eyes  also  had  wandered,  but 
only  with  vague  curiosity,  around  upon  all  the  pupils, 
until  they  became  fixed  upon  me.  We  gazed  at  each 
other  several  moments.  Though  he  sat  still,  and  I 
sat  still,  it  seemed  to  me  that  we  were  drawing  con- 
tinually nearer  to  each  other.  Suddenly  I  lifted  up 
my  voice  and  screamed  with  all  my  might.  It  was 
so  sudden  and  sharp  that  everybody  except  the 
woman  jumped.  She  indifferently  pointed  to  the 
dog.  Her  husband  arose,  came  to  me,  and  in  sooth- 
ing tones  asked  what  was  the  matter. 

''  I  am  scared ! "  I  answered,  as  loud  as  I  could 
speak. 

''  Scared  of  what,  my  little  man  1     Of  the  dog  t  " 

*'  I  am  scared  of  all  of  you  !  " 

He  laughed  with  good  humor,  bade  me  not  be 
afraid,  called  up  Rum,  talked  to  us  both,  enjoined 
upon  us  to  be  friends,  and  prophesied  that  we  would 
be  such,  —  the  best  that  had  ever  been  in  the  world. 
The  little  creature  became  cordial  at  once,  reared 
his  fore  feet  upon  his  master,  took  them  down, 
reared  them  upon  me,  and  in  the  absence  of  a  tail 
to  wag  twisted  his  whole  hinder-parts  in  most  vio- 
lent assurance  that  if  I  should  say  the  word  we  were 
friends  already.  Such  kindness,  and  so  unexpected, 
dissolved  my  apprehensions.  I  was  in  a  condition 
to  accept  terms  far  less  liberal.  So  I  acceded,  and 
went  to  laughing  outright.  Everybody  laughed,  and 
Rum,  who  could  do  nothing  better  in  that  line,  ran 
about  and  barked  as  joyously  as  any  clog  with  a  tail 
could  have  done.  In  the  afternoon,  when  school  was 
dismissed,  I  invited  Rum  to  go  home  with  me ;  but 


334  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

he,  waiting  as  I  supposed  for  a  more  intimate  ac- 
quaintance, declined. 


CHAPTER   II. 

It  was  delightful  to  consider  how  auspicious  a  be- 
ginning I  had  made.  Other  little  boys  profited  by 
it.  Mr.  Lorriby  had  no  desire  to  lose  any  of  his 
scholars,  and  we  all  were  disposed  to  take  as  much 
advantage  as  possible  of  his  apprehension,  however 
unfounded,  that  on  account  of  our  excessive  timidity 
our  parents  might  remove  us  from  the  school.  Be- 
sides, we  knew  that  we  were  to  lose  nothing  by  being 
on  friendly  terms  with  Rum.  The  dread  of  the 
teacher's  wife  soon  passed  away.  She  had  but  little 
to  say,  and  less  to  do.  Nobody  had  any  notion  of 
any  reason  which  she  had  for  coming  to  the  school. 
At  first  she  occasionally  heard  a  spelling-class  recite. 
After  a  little  time  she  began  to  come  much  less 
often,  and  in  a  few  weeks  her  visits  had  decreased  to 
one  in  several  days.  Mrs.  Lorriby  seemed  a  very 
proud  woman  ;  for  she  not  only  had  little  to  say  to 
anybody,  but,  although  she  resided  only  a  mile  and 
a  half  from  the  school-house,  she  never  walked,  but 
invariably  rode  old  Kate.  These  were  small  things, 
yet  we  noticed  them. 

Mr.  Lorriby  was  not  of  the  sort  of  school-masters 
whom  men  used  to  denominate  by  the  title  of  knock- 
down  and  dras:  out.  He  was  not  such  a  man  as  Is- 
rael  Meadows.  But  although  he  was  good-hearted 
enough,  he  was  somewhat  politic  also.  Being  a  new- 
comer, and  being  poor,  he  determined  to  manage  his 
business  with  due  regard  to  the  tastes,  the  wishes, 
and  the  prejudices  of  the  community  in  which  he 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  ^  335 

labored.  He  decidedly  preferred  a  mild  reign  ;  but 
it  was  said  he  could  easily  accommodate  himself  to 
those  who  required  a  more  vigorous  policy.  He  soon 
learned  that  the  latter  was  the  favorite  here.  Peo- 
ple complained  that  there  was  little  or  no  whipping. 
Some  who  had  read  the  fable  of  the  frogs  who  de- 
sired a  sovereign  were  heard  to  declare  that  Josiah 
Lorriby  was  no  better  than  "  Old  King  Log."  One 
patron  spoke  of  taking  his  children  home,  placing 
the  boy  at  the  plow,  and  the  girl  at  the  spinning- 
wheel. 

Persons  in  those  days  loved  their  children,  doubt- 
less, as  well  as  now  ;  but  they  had  some  strange 
ways  of  showing  their  love.  The  strangest  of  all 
was  the  evident  gratification  which  the  former  felt 
when  the  latter  were  whipped  at  school.  While  they 
all  had  a  notion  that  education  was  something  which 
it  was  desirable  to  get,  it  was  believed  that  the  im- 
partation  of  it  needed  to  be  conducted  in  most  mys- 
terious ways.  The  school-house  of  that  day  was,  in 
a  manner,  a  cave  of  Trophonius,  into  which  urchins 
of  both  sexes  entered  amid  certain  incomprehen- 
sible ceremonies,  and  w^ere  everlastingly  subject, 
and  used  to  be  whirled  about,  body  and  soul,  in  a 
vortex  of  confusion.  I  mis^ht  pursue  the  analogy, 
and  say  that,  like  the  votaries  of  Trophonius,  they 
were  not  wont  to  smile  until  long  after  this  violent 
and  rotatory  indoctrination  ;  but  rather  to  weep  and 
lament,  unless  they  were  brave  like  Apollonius,  or 
big  like  Allen  Thigpen,  and  so  could  bully  the  priest 
far  enough  to  have  the  bodily  rotation  dispensed 
with.  According  to  these  notions,  the  principles  of 
the  education  of  books  were  not  to  be  addressed  to 
the  mind  and  to  the  heart ;  but,  if  they  were   ex- 


336  ^     ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

pected  to  stick,  they  must  be  beaten  with  rods  into 
the  back.  Through  this  ordeal  of  painful  ceremo- 
nies had  the  risen  generation  gone,  and  through  the 
same  ordeal  they  honestly  believed  that  the  present 
generation  ought  to  go,  and  must  go.  No  exception 
was  made  in  favor  of  genius.  Its  back  was  to  be 
kept  as  sore  as  stupidity's  ;  for,  being  yoked  with 
the  latter,  it  must  take  the  blows,  the  oaths,  and  the 
imprecations.  I  can  account  for  these  things  in  no 
other  way  than  by  supposing  that  the  old  set  of  per- 
sons had  come  out  of  the  old  system  with  minds  so 
bewildered  as  to  be  ever  afterwards  incapable  of 
thinking  upon  it  in  a  reasonable  manner.  In  one 
respect  there  is  a  considerable  likeness  between 
mankind  and  some  individuals  of  the  brute  creation. 
The  dog  seems  to  love  best  that  master  who  beats 
him  before  giving  him  a  bone.  I  have  heard  persons 
say  (those  who  had  carefully  studied  the  nature 
and  habits  of  that  animal)  that  the  mule  is  wont  to 
evince  a  gratitude  somewhat  touching  when  a  bun- 
dle of  fodder  is  thrown  to  him  at  the  close  of  a  day 
on  which  he  has  been  driven  within  an  inch  of  his 
life.  So  with  the  good  people  of  former  times. 
They  had  been  beaten  so  constantly  and  so  myste- 
riously at  school  that  they  seemed  to  entertain  a 
grateful  affection  for  it  ever  afterwards.  It  was, 
therefore,  with  feelings  of  benign  satisfaction,  some- 
times not  unmixed  with  an  innocent  gayety  of  mind, 
that  they  were  wont  to  listen  to  their  children  when 
they  complained  of  the  thrashings  they  daily  re- 
ceived, some  of  which  would  be  wholly  unaccount- 
able. Indeed,  the  latter  sort  seemed  to  be  consid- 
ered, of  all  others,  the  most  salutary.  When  the 
punishment  was  graduated   by  the  offense,  it  was 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  337 

supporting  too  great  a  likeness  to  the  affairs  of 
every-day  life,  and  therefore  wanting  in  solemn  im- 
pressiveness.  But  when  a  school-master,  for  no  ac- 
countable reason,  whipped  a  boy,  and  so  set  his  mind 
in  a  state  of  utter  bewilderment  as  to  what  could  be 
the  matter,  and  the  most  vague  speculations  upon 
what  was  to  become  of  him  in  this  world,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  next,  —  ah  !  then  it  was  that  the  ex- 
perienced felt  a  happiness  that  was  gently  ecstatic. 
They  recurred  in  their  minds  to  their  own  school 
time,  and  they  concluded  that,  as  these  things  had 
not  killed  them,  they  must  have  done  them  good. 
So  some  of  our  good  mothers  in  Israel,  on  occasions 
of  great  religious  excitement,  as  they  bend  over  a 
shrieking  sinner,  smile  in  serene  happiness  as  they 
fan  his  throbbing  temples,  and  fondly  encourage 
him  to  shriek  on  ;  thinking  of  the  pit  from  which 
they  were  digged,  and  of  the  rock  upon  which  they 
now  are  standing,  they  shout,  and  sing,  and  fan,  and, 
fanning  ever,  continue  to  sing  and  shout. 

CHAPTER   III. 

When  Mr.  Lorriby  had  sounded  the  depths  of 
public  sentiment,  he  became  a  new  man.  One  Mon- 
day morning  he  announced  that  he  was  going  to 
turn  over  a  new  leaf,  and  he  went  straightway  to 
turning  it  over.  Before  night  several  boys,  from 
small  to  medium,  had  been  flogged.  He  had  not 
begun  on  the  girls,  except  in  one  instance.  In  that 
I  well  remember  the  surprise  I  felt  at  the  manner 
in  which  her  case  was  disposed  of.  Her  name  was 
Susan  Potter.     She  was  about  twelve  years  old,  and 

well  grown.     When  she  was  called  up,  inquiry  was 

22 


338  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

made  by  the  master  if  any  boy  present  was  willing 
to  take  upon  himself  the  punishment  which  must 
otherwise  fall  upon  her.  After  a  moment's  silence, 
Seaborn  Byne,  a  boy  of  fourteen,  rose  and  pre- 
sented himself.  He  was  good-tempered  and  fat,  and 
his  pants  and  round  jacket  fitted  him  closely.  He 
advanced  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was  going  to 
do  what  was  right,  with  no  thought  of  consequences. 
Miss  Potter  unconcernedly  went  to  her  seat. 

But  Seaborn  soon  evinced  that  he  was  dissatisfied 
with  a  bargain  that  was  so  wholly  without  consider- 
ation. I  believed  then,  and  I  believe  to  this  day, 
that  but  for  his  being  so  good  a  mark  he  would  have 
received  fewer  stripes.  But  his  round  fat  body  and 
legs  stood  so  temptingly  before  the  rod,  and  the  lat- 
ter fell  upon  good  flesh  so  entirely  through  its  whole 
length,  that  it  was  really  hard  to  stop.  He  roared 
with  pain  so  unexpectedly  severe,  and  violently 
rubbed  each  spot  of  recent  infliction.  When  it  was 
over,  he  came  to  his  seat,  and  looked  at  Susan  Pot- 
ter. She  seemed  to  feel  like  laughing.  Seaborn 
got  no  sympathy,  except  from  a  source  which  he  de- 
spised ;  that  was  his  younger  brother,  Joel.  Joel 
was  weeping  in  secret. 

**  Shut  up  your  mouth,"  whispered  Seaborn, 
threateningly,  and  Joel  shut  up. 

Then  I  distinctly  heard  Seaborn  mutter  the  fol- 
lowing words  :  — 

**  Ef  I  ever  takes  another  for  her,  or  any  of  'em, 
may  I  be  dinged,  and  then  dug  up  and  dinged  over 
again." 

I  have  no  doubt  that  he  kept  his  oath,  for  I  con- 
tinued to  know  Seaborn  Byne  until  he  w^as  an  old 
man,  and   I   never  knew  a  person  who  persistently 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  339 

held  that  vicarious  system  of  school  punishment  in 
deeper  disgust.  What  his  ideas  were  about  being 
"dinged,"  and  about  that  operation  being  repeated, 
I  did  not  know ;  but  I  supposed  it  was  something 
that,  if  possible,  would  better  be  avoided. 

Such  doings  as  these  made  a  great  change  in  the 
feelings  of  us  little  ones.  Yet  I  continued  to  run 
the  crying  schedule.  It  failed  at  last,  and  I  went 
under. 

Mr.  Lorriby  laid  it  upon  me  remorselessly.  I  had 
never  dreamed  that  he  would  give  me  such  a  flog- 
ging, —  I,  who  considered  myself,  as  everybody  else 
considered  me,  a  favorite.  Now  the  charm  was 
gone,  —  the  charm  of  security.  It  made  me  very 
sad.  I  lost  my  love  for  the  teacher.  I  even  grew 
cold  tow^ards  Rum,  and  Rum  in  his  turn  grew  cold 
towards  me.  Not  that  we  got  into  open  hostilities. 
For,  saving  an  occasional  fretfulness,  Rum  w^as  a 
good  fellow,  and  personally  I  had  liked  him.  But 
then  he  was  from  principle  a  thorough  Lorriby,  and 
therefore  our  intimacy  must  stop,  and  did  stop. 

In  a  short  time  Mr.  Lorriby  had  gone  as  nearly 
all  round  the  school  as  it  was  prudent  to  go.  Every 
boy  but  two  had  received  his  portion,  some  once, 
some  several  times.  These  two  were  Mr.  Bill  Will- 
iams and  another  big  boy,  named  Jeremiah  Hobbes. 
These  were,  of-  course,  as  secure  against  harm  from 
Mr.  Lorriby  as  they  would  have  been  had  he  been 
in  Guinea.  Every  girl  also  had  been  flogged,  or  had 
had  a  boy  flogged  for  her,  except  Betsy  Ann  Aery, 
the  belle  of  the  school.  She  was  a  light-haired, 
blue-eyed,  plump,  delicious-looking  girl,  fourteen 
years  old.  Now  for  Miss  Betsy  Ann  Aery,  as  it 
was  known  to  everybody  about  the  school-house,  Mr. 


340  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Bill  Williams  had  a  partiality  which,  though  not 
avowed,  was  decided.  He  had  never  courted  her  in 
set  words,  but  he  had  observed  her  from  day  to  day, 
and  noticed  her  ripening  into  womanhood  with  con- 
stantly increasing  admiration.  He  was  scarcely  a 
match  for  her  even  if  they  both  had  been  in  condi- 
tion to  marry.  He  knew  this  very  well.  But  con- 
siderations of  this  sort  seldom  do  a  young  man  any 
good.  More  often  than  otherwise  they  make  him 
worse.  At  least  such  was  their  effect  upon  Mr.  Bill. 
The  greater  the  distance  between  him  and  Miss 
Betsy  Ann,  the  more  he  yearned  across  it.  He  sat 
in  school  where  he  could  always  see  her,  and  oh, 
how  he  eyed  her !  Often,  often  have  I  noticed  Mr. 
Bill,  leaning  the  side  of  his  head  upon  his  arms,  ex- 
tended on  the  desk  in  front  of  him,  and  looking  at 
her  with  a  countenance  which,  it  seemed  to  me, 
ought  to  make  some  impression.  Betsy  Ann  re- 
ceived it  all  as  if  it  was  no  more  than  she  was  en- 
titled to,  but  showed  no  sign  whether  she  set  any 
value  upon  the  possession  or  not.  Mr.  Bill  hoped 
she  d^d  ;  the  rest  of  us  believed  she  did  not. 

Mr.  Bill  had  another  ambition,  which  was,  if  pos- 
sible, even  higher  than  the  winning  of  Miss  Aery. 
Having  almost  extravagant  notions  of  the  greatness 
of  Dukesborough,  and  the  distinction  of  being  a  res- 
ident within  it,  he  had  long  desired  to  go  there  as 
a  clerk  in  a  store.  He  had  made  repeated  applica- 
tions to  be  taken  in  by  Messrs.  Bland  &  Jones,  and 
it  was  in  obedience  to  a  hint  from  these  gentlemen 
that  he  had  determined  to  take  a  term  of  finishing 
off  at  the  school  of  Mr.  Lorriby.  This  project  was 
never  out  of  his  mind,  even  in  moments  of  his  fond- 
est   imaginings  about  Miss  Betsy  Ann.     It  would 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  34 1 

have  been  not  easy  to  say  which  he  loved  the  best. 
The  clerkship  seemed  to  become  nearer  and  nearer 
after  each  Saturday's  visit  to  town,  until  at  last  he 
had  a  distinct  offer  of  the  place.  The  salary  was 
small,  but  he  waived  that  consideration  in  view  of 
the  exaltation  of  the  office  and  the  greatness  of  liv- 
ing in  Dukesborough.  He  accepted,  to  enter  upon 
his  duties  in  four  weeks,  when  the  quarter  session 
of  the  school  would  expire. 

The  dignified  ways  of  Mr.  Bill  after  this  made 
considerable  impression  upon  all  the  school.  Even 
Betsy  Ann  condescended  to  turn  her  eyes  oftener  in 
the  direction  where  he  happened  to  be,  and  he  was 
almost  inclined  to  glory  in  the  hope  that  the  posses- 
sion of  one  dear  object  would  draw  the  other  along 
with  it.  At  least  he  felt  that  if  he  should  lose  the 
latter  the  former  would  be  the  highest  consolation 
which  he  could  ask.  The  news  of  the  distinguished 
honor  that  had  been  conferred  upon  him  reached 
the  heads  of  the  school  early  on  the  Monday  follow- 
ing the  eventful  Saturday  when  the  business  was 
done.  I  say  heads,  for  of  late  Mrs.  Mehitable  and 
old  Kate  came  almost  every  day.  Mrs.  Lorriby  re- 
ceived the  announcement  without  emotion.  Mr. 
Lorriby,  on  the  other  hand,  in  spite  of  the  prospect 
of  losing  a  scholar,  was  almost  extravagant  in  his 
congratulations. 

"  It  was  a  honor  to  the  whole  school,"  he  said. 
**  I  feels  it  myself.  Sich  it  war  under  all  the  circum- 
stances. It  was  obleeged  to  be,  and  sich  it  war,  and 
as  it  war  sich,  I  feels  it  myself." 

Seaborn  Byne  heard  this  speech.  Immediately 
afterwards  he  turned  to  me  and  whispered  the  fol- 
lowing comment  :  — 

"  He  be  dinged  !  the  decateful  old  son-of-a-gun  !  " 


342  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

It  was  the  unanimous  opinion  amongst  Mr.  Lorri- 
by's  pupils  that  he  was  grossly  inconsistent  with 
himself  :  that  he  ought  to  have  begun  with  the  rigid 
policy  at  first,  or  have  held  to  the  mild.  Having 
once  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  the  latter,  thoughts 
would  occasionally  rise  and  questions  would  be 
asked.  Seaborn  Byne  was  not  exactly  the  head, 
but  he  was  certainly  the  orator,  of  a  revolutionary 
party.  Not  on  his  own  account  ;  for  he  had  never 
yet,  except  as  the  voluntary  substitute  of  Miss  Susan 
Potter,  felt  upon  his  own  body  the  effects  of  the 
change  of  discipline.  Nor  did  he  seem  to  have  any 
apprehensions  on  that  score.  He  even  went  so  far 
as  to  say  to  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  who  had  playfully 
suggested  the  bare  idea  of  such  a  thing,  that  "ef 
old  Jo  Lorriby  raised  his  old  pole  on  him,  he  would 
put  his  lizzard  "  (as  Seaborn  facetiously  called  his 
knife)  "into  his  paunch."  He  always  carried  a  very 
big  knife,  with  which  he  would  frequently  stab  im- 
aginary Lorribys  in  the  persons  of  saplings  and 
pumpkins,  and  even  the  air  itself.  This  threat  had 
made  his  brother  Joel  extremely  unhappy.  His  lit- 
tle heart  was  bowed  down  with  the  never-resting 
fear  and  belief  that  Seaborn  was  destined  to  commit 
the  crime  of  murder  upon  the  body  of  Mr.  Lorriby. 
On  the  other  hand.  Seaborn  was  constantly  vexed  by 
the  sight  of  the  scores  of  floggings  which  Joel  re- 
ceived. Poor  Joel  had  somehow  in  the  beginning 
of  his  studies  gotten  up  the  wrong  road,  and  as  no- 
body ever  brought  him  back  to  the  starting  point  he 
was  destined,  it  seemed,  to  wander  about  lost  ever- 


DUKESBOROUGH   TALES.  343 

more.  The  more  floggings  he  got  the  more  hope- 
less and  wild  were  his  efforts  at  extrication.  It  w^as 
unfortunate  for  him  that  his  brother  took  any  in- 
terest in  his  condition.  Seaborn  had  great  contempt 
for  him,  but  yet  he  remembered  that  he  was  his 
brother,  and  his  brother's  heart  would  not  allow  it- 
self to  feel  no  concern.  That  concern  manifested 
itself  in  endeavoring  to  teach  Joel  himself  out  of 
school,  and  in  flogging  him  himself  by  way  of  pre- 
venting Joel's  having  to  submit  to  that  disgrace  at 
the  hands  of  old  Joe.  So  eager  was  Seaborn  in  this 
brotherly  design,  and  so  indocile  was  Joel,  that  for 
every  flogging  which  the  latter  received  from  the 
master  he  got  from  two  to  three  from  Seaborn. 

However,  the  inflictions  which  Seaborn  made, 
strictly  speaking,  could  not  be  called  floggings. 
Joel,  among  his  other  infirmities,  had  that  of  being 
unable  to  take  care  of  his  spelling-books.  He  had 
torn  to  pieces  so  many  that  his  mother  had  ob- 
tained a  paddle  and  pasted  on  both  sides  of  it  as 
many  words  as  could  be  crowded  there.  ]\Irs.  Byne, 
who  was  a  woman  of  decision,  had  been  heard  to 
say  that  she  meant  to  head  him  at  this  destructive 
business,  and  now  she  believed  that  she  had  done  it. 
But  this  instrument  was  made  to  subserve  a  double 
purpose  with  Joel.  It  was  at  once  the  object,  and  in 
his  brother's  hands  was  the  stimulus,  of  his  little 
ambition.  Among  all  these  evils,  floggings  from  Mr. 
Lorriby  and  paddlings  from  Seaborn,  and  the  abid- 
ing apprehension  that  the  former  was  destined  to  be 
murdered  by  the  latter,  Joel  Byne's  was  a  case  to  be 
pitied. 

"  It  ar  a  disgrace,"  said  Mr.  Bill  to  me  one  morn- 
ing as  we  were  going  to  school,  "  and  I  wish  Mr. 


344  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Larrabee  knowed  it.  Between  him  and  Sebe,  that 
little  innocent  individiel  ar  bent  on  bein'  useded  up 
bodaciously.  Whippins  from  Mr.  Larrabee  and  pad- 
dlins  from  Sebe  !  The  case  ar  wusser  than  ef  thar 
was  two  Larrabees.  That  ar  the  ontimeliest  paddle 
that  ever  /  seen.  He  have  to  try  to  larn  his  paddle, 
and  when  he  can't  larn  it,  Sebe,  he  take  his  paddle, 
fling  down  Joel,  and  paddle  him  witJi  his  paddle.  In 
all  my  experence,  I  has  not  seed  jest  sich  a  case.  It 
ar  beyant  hope." 

Mr.  Bill's  sympathy  made  him  serious,  and  indeed 
gloomy.  The  road  on  which  the  Bynes  came  to 
school  met  ours  a  few  rods  from  the  spring.  We 
were  now  there,  and  Mr.  Bill  had  scarcely  finished 
this  speech  when  we  heard  behind  us  the  screams  of 
a  child. 

•*  Thar  it  is  agin,"  said  Mr.  Bill.  *'  At  it  good  and 
soon.  It  do  beat  everything  in  this  blessed  and  on- 
timely  world.     Ef  it  don't,  ding  me  !  " 

We  looked  behind  us.  Here  came  Joel  at  full 
speed,  screaming  with  all  his  might,  hatless,  with 
his  paddle  in  one  hand  and  his  dinner-bucket,  with- 
out cover,  hanging  from  the  other.  Twenty  yards 
behind  him  ran  Seaborn,  who  had  been  delayed  by 
having  to  stop  in  order  to  pick  up  Joel's  hat  and  the 
bucket-cover.  Just  before  reaching  the  spring,  the 
fugitive  was  overtaken  and  knocked  down.  Seaborn, 
then  getting  upon  him  and  fastening  his  arms  with 
his  own  knees,  seized  the  paddle,  and  exclaimed,  — 

"  Now,  you  rascal  !  spell  that  word  agin,  sir.  Ef 
you  don't,  I  '11  paddle  you  into  a  pancake.  Spell 
^Crucifix!  sir." 

Joel  attempted  to  obey. 

^*  5 agin,  you  little  devil !    S-i,  si!    Ding  my  skin 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  345 

ef  you  shan't  larn  it,  or  I  '11  paddle  you  as  long  as 
thar  's  poplars  to  make  paddles  outen." 

And  he  turned  Joel  over  and  made  him  ready. 

"  Look  a  here,  Sebe  !  "  interposed  Mr.  Bill  ; 
"fun's  fun,  but  too  much  is  too  much." 

Now  what  these  words  were  intended  to  be  pre- 
liminary to,  there  was  no  opportunity  of  ascertain- 
ing ;  for  just  then  Mr.  Josiah  Lorriby,  who  had  di- 
verged from  his  own  way  in  order  to  drink  at  the 
spring,  presented  himself. 

"  What  air  you  about  thar,  Sebion  Byne  ?  " 

Seaborn  arose,  and  though  he  considered  his  con- 
duct not  only  justifiable,  but  praiseworthy,  he  looked 
a  little  crest-fallen. 

"  Ah,  indeed !  You  're  the  assistant  teacher,  air 
you  }  Interfering  with  my  business,  and  my  rights, 
and  my  duties,  and  my  —  hem  !  Let  us  all  go  to  the 
school-house  now.  Mr.  Byne  will  manage  business 
hereafter.  I  —  as  for  me,  I  ain't  nowhar  now.  Come, 
Mr.  Byne,  le's  go  to  school." 

Mr.  Lorriby  and  Seaborn  went  on,  side  by  side. 
Mr.  Bill  looked  as  if  he  were  highly  gratified.  "  Ef 
he  don't  get  it  now,  he  never  will." 

Alas  for  Joel !  Delivered  from  Seaborn,  he  was 
yet  more  miserable  than  before,  and  he  forgot  his 
own  griefs  in  his  pity  for  the  inpending  fate  of  Mr. 
Lorriby,  and  his  apprehension  for  the  ultimate  con- 
sequence of  this  day's  work  to  his  brother.  He 
pulled  me  a  little  behind  Mr.  Bill,  and  tremblingly 
whispered,  — 

*'  Poor  Mr.  Larrabee  !  Do  you  reckon  they  will 
hang  Seaby,  Phil  }  " 

"  What  for  .?  "  I  asked. 

"  For  killing  Mr.  Larrabee." 


346  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

I  answered  that  I  hoped  not. 

"  Oh,  Phil  !  Seaby  have  sich  a  big  knife  !  An'  he 
have  stob  more  saplins  !  and  more  punkins  !  and 
more  vvatermiUions  !  and  more  mushmilUons  !  And 
he  have  even  stob  our  old  big  yaller  cat !  And  he 
have  call  every  one  of  'em  Larrabee.  And  it  's  my 
pinion  that  ef  it  war  n't  for  my  paddle,  he  would  a 
stob  me  befo'  now.  You  see,  Phil,  paddlin'  me 
sorter  cools  and  swages  him  down  a  leetle  bit.  Oh, 
Seaby  ar  a  tremenduous  boy,  and  he  zx  goiii  to  stob 
Mr.  Larrabee  this  blessed  day." 

As  we  neared  the  school-house  we  saw  old  Kate 
at  the  usual  stand,  and  wx  knew  that  Mrs.  Lorriby 
was  at  hand.  She  met  her  husband  at  the  door, 
and  they  had  some  w^hispering  together,  of  which 
the  case  of  Seaborn  was  evidently  the  subject.  Joel 
begged  me  to  stay  with  him  outside  until  the  hor- 
rible thing  was  over.  So  we  stopped  and  peeped  in 
between  the  logs.  We  had  not  to  wait  long.  Mr. 
Lorriby,  his  mate  standing  by  his  side,  at  once  be- 
gan to  lay  on,  and  Seaborn  roared.  The  laying  on 
and  the  roaring  continued  until  the  master  was 
satisfied.  When  all  was  over,  I  looked  into  Joel's 
face.  It  was  radiant  with  smiles.  I  never  have 
seen  greater  happiness  upon  the  countenance  of 
childhood.  Happy  little  fellow !  Seaborn  would 
not  be  hung.  That  illusion  was  gone  forever.  He 
actually  hugged  his  paddle  to  his  breast,  and  with  a 
gait  even  approaching  the  triumphant,  walked  into 
the  house. 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  347 


CHAPTER   V. 

Having  broken  the  ice  upon  Seaborn,  Mr.  Lorriby 
went  into  the  sport  of  flogging  him  whenever  he  felt 
like  it.  Seaborn's  revolutionary  sentiments  grew 
deeper  and  stronger  constantly.  But  he  was  now, 
of  course,  hopeless  of  accomplishing  any  results 
himself,  and  he  knew  that  the  only  chance  was  to 
enlist  Jeremiah  Hobbes  or  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  and 
make  him  the  leader  in  the  enterprise.  Very  soon, 
however,  one  of  these  chances  was  lost.  Hobbes 
received  and  accepted  an  offer  to  become  an  over- 
seer on  a  plantation,  and  Seaborn's  hopes  were  now 
fixed  upon  Mr.  Bill  alone.  That  also  was  destined 
soon  to  be  lost  by  the  latter' s  prospective  clerkship. 
Besides,  Mr.  Bill  being  even-tempered,  and  never 
having  received  and  being  never  likely  to  receive 
any  provocation  from  Mr.  Lorriby,  the  prospect  of 
making  anything  out  of  him  was  gloomy  enough. 
In  vain  Seaborn  raised  innuendoes  concerning  his 
pluck.  In  vain  he  tried  every  other  expedient,  even 
to  secretly  drawing  on  Mr.  Bill's  slate  a  picture  of  a 
very  little  man  flogging  a  very  big  boy,  and  writing 
as  well  as  he  could  the  name  of  Mr.  Lorriby  near 
the  former  and  that  of  Mr.  Bill  near  the  latter.  Sea- 
born could  not  disguise  himself  ;  and  Mr.  Bill,  when 
he  saw  the  pictures,  informed  the  artist  that  if  he 
did  not  mind  what  he  was  about  he  would  get  a 
worse  beating  than  ever  Joe  Larrabee  gave  him. 
Seaborn  had  but  one  hope  left,  but  that  involved 
some  little  delicacy,  and  could  be  managed  only 
by  its  own  circumstances.  It  might  do,  and  it 
might  not  do.     If  Seaborn  had  been  accustomed  to 


348  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

asking  special  Divine  interpositions,  he  would  have 
prayed  that  if  anything  was  to  be  made  out  of  this  it 
might  be  made  before  Mr.  Bill  should  leave.  Sure 
enough,  it  did  come.  Just  one  week  before  the 
quarter  was  out  it  came.  But  I  must  premise  the 
narration  of  this  great  event  with  a  few  words. 

Between  Mrs.  Lorriby  and  Miss  Betsy  Ann  Aery 
the  relations  were  not  very  agreeable.  Among  other 
things  which  were  the  cause  of  this  were  the  unwar- 
rantable liberties  which  Miss  Aery  sometimes  took 
with  Kate,  Mrs.  Lorriby's  mare.  Betsy  Ann,  in  spite 
of  all  dangers  (not  the  least  of  which  was  that  of 
breaking  her  own  neck),  would  treat  herself  to  an  oc- 
casional ride  whenever  circumstances  allowed.  One 
day  at  play-time,  when  Mrs.  Lorriby  was  out  upon 
one  of  her  walks,  which  she  sometimes  took  at  that 
hour,  Betsy  Ann  hopped  upon  the  mare,  and  ban- 
tered me  for  a  race  to  the  spring  and  back.  I  ac- 
cepted. We  set  out.  I  beat  old  Kate  on  the  re- 
turn, because  she  stumbled  and  fell.  A  great  laugh 
was  raised,  and  we  were  detected  by  Mrs.  Lorriby. 
Passing  me,  she  went  up  to  Betsy  Ann,  and  thus 
spoke  :  — 

"■  Betsy  Ann  Acree,  libities  is  libities,  and  horses 
is  horses,  which  is  mars  is  mars.  I  have  ast  you  not 
to  ride  this  mar,  which  she  was  give  to  me  by  my 
parrent  father,  and  which  she  have  not  been  rid,  no, 
not  by  Josiah  Lorribee  hisself,  and  which  I  have  said 
I  do  not  desires  she  shall  be  spilt  in  her  gaits,  and 
which  I  wants  and  desires  you  will  not  git  upon  the 
back  of  that  mar  nary  nother  time." 

After  this  event  these  two  ladies  seemed  to  re- 
gard each  other  with  even  increased  dislike. 

Miss  Betsy  Ann.  A  cry  had  heretofore  escaped  cor- 


DUKESBOROUGH   TALES.  349 

rection  for  any  of  her  short-comings,  although  they 
were  not  few.  She  was  fond  of  mischief,  and  no 
more  afraid  of  Mr.  Lorriby  than  Mr.  Bill  Williams 
was.  Indeed,  Miss  Betsy  Ann  considered  herself  to 
be  a  woman,  and  she  had  been  heard  to  say  that  a 
whipping  was  something  which  she  would  take  from 
nobody.  Mr.  Lorriby  smiled  at  her  mischievous 
tricks,  but  Mrs.  Lorriby  frowned.  These  ladies 
came  to  dislike  each  other  more  and  more.  The 
younger,  when  in  her  frolics,  frequently  noticed  the 
elder  give  her  husband  a  look  which  was  expressive 
of  much  meaning.  Seaborn  had  also  noticed  this, 
and  the  worse  Miss  Aery  grew  the  oftener  Mrs. 
Lorriby  came  to  the  school.  The  truth  is  that  Sea- 
born had  pondered  so  much  that  he  at  last  made  a 
profound  discovery.  He  had  come  to  believe  fully, 
and  in  this  he  was  right,  that  the  object  which  the 
female  Lorriby  had  in  coming  at  all  was  to  protect 
the  male.  A  bright  thought  !  He  communicated 
it  to  Miss  Aery,  and  slyly  hinted  several  times  that 
he  believed  she  was  afraid  of  Old  Red  Eye,  as  he 
denominated  the  master's  wife.  Miss  Aery  indig- 
nantly repelled  every  such  insinuation,  and  became 
only  the  bolder  in  what  she  said  and  what  she  did. 
Seaborn  knew  that  the  Lorribys  were  well  aware  of 
Mr.  Bill's  preference  for  the  girl,  and  he  intensely 
enjoyed  her  temerity.  But  it  was  hard  to  satisfy 
him  that  she  was  not  afraid  of  Old  Red  Eye.  If 
Old  Red  Eye  had  not  been  there,  Betsy  Ann  would 
have  done  so  and  so.  The  reason  why  she  did  not 
do  so  and  so  was  because  Old  Red  Eye  was  about. 
Alas  for  human  nature  !  —  male  and  female.  Betsy 
Ann  went  on  and  on,  until  she  was  brought  to  a 
halt.     The  occasion  was  thus. 


350  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

There  was  in  the  school  a  boy  of  about  my  own 
size,  and  a  year  or  two  older,  whose  name  was  Mar- 
tin Granger.  He  was  somewhat  of  a  pitiful-looking 
creature,  —■  whined  when  he  spoke,  and  was  fre- 
quently in  quarrels,  not  only  with  the  boys,  but  with 
the  girls.  He  was  suspected  of  sometimes  playing 
the  part  of  spy  and  informer  to  the  Lorribys,  both 
of  whom  treated  him  with  more  consideration  than 
any  other  pupil,  except  Mr.  Bill  Williams.  Miss 
Betsy  Ann  cordially  disliked  him,  and  she  honored 
myself  by  calling  me  her  favorite  in  the  whole 
school. 

Now  Martin  and  I  got  ourselves  very  unexpect- 
edly into  a  fight.  I  had  divided  my  molasses  with 
him  at  dinner-time  for  weeks  and  weeks.  A  few  of 
the  pupils,  whose  parents  could  afford  to  have  that 
luxury,  were  accustomed  to  carry  it  to  school  in 
phials.  I  usually  ate  my  part  after  boring  a  hole 
in  my  biscuit,  and  then  filHng  it  up.  I  have  often 
wished  since  I  have  been  grown  that  I  could  relish 
that  preparation  as  I  relished  it  when  a  boy.  But 
as  we  grow  older  our  tastes  change.  Martin  Granger 
relished  the  juice  even  more  than  I.  In  all  my  ob- 
servations I  have  never  known  a  person  of  any  de- 
scription who  was  as  fond  of  molasses  as  he  was.  It 
did  me  good  to  see  him  eat  it.  He  never  brought 
any  himself,  but  he  used  to  hint,  in  his  whining  way, 
that  the  time  was  not  distant  when  his  father  would 
have  a  whole  kegful,  and  when  he  should  bring  it  to 
school  in  his  mother's  big  snuff-bottle,  which  was 
well  known  to  us  all.  Although  I  was  not  so  san- 
guine of  the  realization  of  this  prospect  as  he  seemed 
to  be,  yet  I  had  not  on  that  account  become  tired  of 
furnishing  him.     I  only  grew  tired  of  his  presence 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  35  I 

while  at  my  dinner,  and  I  availed  myself  of  a  tri- 
fling dispute  one  day  to  shut  down  upon  him.  I  not 
only  did  not  invite  him  to  partake  of  my  molasses, 
but  I  rejected  his  spontaneous  proposition  to  that 
effect.  He  had  been  dividing  it  with  me  so  long 
that  I  believe  he  thought  my  right  to  cut  him  off 
now  was  estopped.  He  watched  me  as  I  bored  my 
holes,  and  poured  in  and  ate,  and  even  wasted,  the 
precious  fluid.  I  could  not  consume  it  all.  When 
I  had  finished  eating,  I  poured  water  into  the  phial 
and  made  what  we  called  *'  beverage."  I  would 
drink  a  little,  then  shake  it  and  hold  it  up  before  me. 
The  golden  bubbles  shone  gloriously  in  the  sun- 
light. I  had  not  said  a  word  to  Martin  during  these 
interesting  operations,  nor  even  looked  towards  him. 
But  I  knew  that  his  eyes  were  upon  me  and  the 
phial.  Just  as  I  swallowed  the  last  drop,  his  full 
heart  could  bear  no  more,  and  he  uttered  a  cry  of 
pain,  I  turned  to  him  and  asked  him  what  was  the 
matter.  The  Question  seemed  to  be  considered  as 
adding  insult  to  injustice. 

"Corn  deternally  trive  your  devilish  hide,"  he  an- 
swered, and  gave  me  the  full  benefit  of  his  clinched 
fist  upon  my  stomach.  He  was  afterwards  heard  to 
say  that  "thar  was  the  place  whar  he  w^anted  to  hit 
fust."  We  closed,  scratched,  pulled  hair,  and  oth- 
erwise struggled  until  we  were  separated.  Martin 
went  immediately  to  Mr.  Lorriby,  gave  his  version 
of  the  brawl,  and  just  as  the  school  was  to  be  dis- 
missed for  the  day  I  was  called  up  and  flogged  with- 
out inquiry  and  without  explanation. 

Miss  Betsy  Ann  Aery  had  seen  the  fight.  When 
I  came  to  my  seat,  crying  bitterly,  her  indignation 
could  not  contain  itself. 


352  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Mr.  Larribee,"  she  said,  her  cheeks  growing  red- 
der, **you  have  whipped  that  boy  for  nothing." 

Betsy  Ann,  with  all  her  pluck,  had  never  gone  so 
far  as  this.  Mr.  Lorriby  turned  pale,  and  looked  at 
his  wife.  Her  red  eyes  fairly  glistened  with  fire. 
He  understood  it,  and  said  to  Betsy  Ann  in  a  hesi- 
tating tone,  — 

"  You  had  better  keep  your  advice  to  yourself." 

"I  did  not  give  you  any  advice.  I  just  said  you 
whipped  that  boy  for  nothing,  and  I  said  the  truth." 

"  Ain't  that  advice,  madam  }  " 

"  I  am  no  madam,  I  thank  you,  sir  ;  and  if  that 's 
advice  "  — 

*'  Shet  up  your  mouth,  Betsy  Ann  Aery." 

"•  Yes,  sir,"  said  Betsy  Ann,  very  loud,  and  she 
fastened  her  pretty  pouting  lips  together,  elevated 
her  head,  inclined  a  little  to  one  side,  and  seemed 
amusedly  awaiting  further  orders. 

The  female  Lorriby  here  rose,  went  to  her  hus- 
band, and  whispered  earnestly  to  him.  He  hesitated, 
and  then  resolved. 

"  Come  here  to  me,  Betsy  Ann  Aery." 

She  went  up  as  gayly  as  if  she  expected  a  present. 

"  I  am  going  to  whip  Betsy  Ann  Aery.  Ef  any 
boy  here  wants  to  take  it  for  her,  he  can  now  step 
forrards." 

Betsy  Ann  patted  her  foot,  and  looked  neither  to 
the  right  nor  to  the  left,  nor  yet  behind  her. 

When  a  substitute  was  invited  to  appear,  the 
house  was  still  as  a  graveyard.  I  rubbed  my  legs 
apologetically,  and  looked  up  at  Seaborn,  who  sat 
by  me. 

-  "  No,  sir  ;  if  I  do  may  I  be  dinged,  and  then  dug 
up  and  "  —     I  did  not  listen  to  the  remainder  ;  and 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  353 

as  no  one  else  seemed  disposed  to  volunteer,  and  as 
the  difficulty  was  brought  about  upon  my  own  ac- 
count, and  as  Betsy  Ann  liked  me  and  I  liked  Betsy 
Ann,  I  made  a  desperate  resolution,  and  rose  and 
presented  myself.  Betsy  Ann  appeared  to  be  dis- 
gusted. 

"  I  don't  think  I  would  whip  that  child  any  more 
to-day,  if  I  was  in  your  place,  especially  for  other 
folk's  doings." 

''That 's  jest  as  you  say." 

''  Well,  I  say  go  back  to  your  seat,  Phil." 

I  obeyed,  and  felt  relieved  and  proud  of  myself. 
Mr.  Lorriby  began  to  straighten  his  switch.  Then 
I  and  all  the  other  pupils  looked  at  Mr.  Bill  Will- 
iams. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

Oh,  what  an  argument  was  going  on  in  Mr.  Bill's 
breast !  Vain  had  been  all  efforts  heretofore  made  to 
bring  him  in  any  way  into  collision  with  the  Lorri- 
bys.  He  had  even  kept  himself  out  of  all  combi- 
nations to  get  a  little  holiday  by  an  innocent  duck- 
ing, and  useless  had  been  all  appeals  heretofore  to 
his  sympathies  ;  for  he  was  like  the  rest  who  had 
been  through  the  ordeal  of  the  schools,  and  had 
grown  to  believe  that  it  did  more  good  than  harm. 
If  it  had  been  anybody  but  Betsy  Ann  Aery,  he 
would  have  been  unmoved,  But  it  was  Betsy  Ann 
Aery,  and  he  had  been  often  heard  to  say  that  if 
Betsy  Ann  Aery  should  have  to  be  whipped  he 
should  take  upon  himself  the  responsibility  of  see- 
ing that  that  must  not  be  done.  And  now  that  con- 
tingency had  come.  What  ought  to  be  done  }  How 
was  this  responsibility  to  be  discharged  }     Mr.  Bill 

23 


354  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

wished  that  the  female  Lorriby  had  stayed  away 
that  day.  He  did  not  know  exactly  why  he  wished 
it,  but  he  wished  it.  To  add  to  his  other  difficulties, 
Miss  Betsy  Ann  had  never  given  any  token  of  her 
reciprocation  of  his  regard  ;  for  now  that  the  nov- 
elty of  the  future  clerkship  had  worn  away,  she  had 
returned  to  her  old  habit  of  never  seeming  to  notice 
that  there  was  such  a  person  as  himself.  But  the 
idea  of  a  switch  falling  upon  her  whose  body,  from 
the  crown  of  her  head  to  the  soles  of  her  feet,  was 
so  precious  to  him  outweighed  every  other  consid- 
eration, and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  be  as  good  as 
his  word,  and  take  the  responsibility.  Just  as  the 
male  Lorriby  (the  female  by  his  side)  was  about  to 
raise  the  switch,  — 

"  Stop  a  minute,  Mr.  Larrabee  !  "  he  exclaimed,  ad- 
vancing in  a  highly  excited  manner. 

The  teacher  lowered  his  arm  and  retreated  one 
step,  looking  a  little  irresolute.  His  wife  advanced 
one  step,  and,  looking  straight  at  Mr.  Bill,  her  robust 
frame  rose  at  least  an  inch  higher. 

**  Mr.  Larrabee  !  I  —  ah  —  don't  exactly  consider 
myself  —  ah  —  as  a  scholar  here  now  ;  because  — 
ah  —  I  expect  to  move  to  Dukesborough  in  a  few 
days,  and  keep  store  thar  for  Mr.  Bland  &  Jones." 

To  his  astonishment,  this  announcement,  so  im- 
pressive heretofore,  failed  of  the  slightest  effect  now, 
when,  of  all  times,  an  effect  was  desired.  Mr.  Lor- 
riby, in  answer  to  a  sign  from  his  wife,  had  recovered 
his  lost  ground,  and  looked  placidly  upon  him,  but 
answered  nothing. 

"  I  say,"  repeated  Mr.  Bill  distinctly,  as  if  he  sup- 
posed he  had  not  been  heard,  "  I  say  that  I  expect 
in  a  few  days  to  move  to  Dukesborough  ;  to  live 
thar  ;  to  keep  store  thar  for  Mr.  Bland  &  Jones." 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  355 

'*  Well,  William,  I  think  I  have  heard  that  before. 
I  want  to  hear  you  talk  about  it  some  time  when  it 
ain't  school  time,  and  when  we  ain't  so  busy  as  we 
air  now  at  the  present." 

"  Well,  but  "  —  persisted  Mr.  Bill. 

"  Well,  but  t  "  inquired  Mr.  Lorriby. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  former,  insistingly. 

**  Well,  but  what }  Is  this  case  got  anything  to  do 
with  it  }     Is  she  got  anything  to  do  with  it }  " 

"  In  cose  it  have  not,"  answered  Mr.  Bill,  sadly. 

"  Well,  what  makes  you  tell  us  of  it  now,  at  the 
present }  "  Oh  !  what  a  big  word  was  that  us,  then, 
to  Josiah  Lorriby  ! 

"  Mr.  Larrabee,"  urged  Mr.  Bill,  in  as  persuasive 
accents  as  he  could  employ  ;  "  no,  sir,  Mr.  Larrabee, 
it  have  not  got  anything  to  do  with  it ;  but  yit  "  — 

"  Well,  yit  what,  William  .?  " 

"  Well,  Mr.  Larrabee,  I  thought  as  I  was  a-goin' 
to  quit  school  soon,  and  as  I  was  a-goin'  to  move  to 
Dukesborough  —  as  I  was  a-goin'  right  oiiteii  your 
school  intoo  Dukesborough  as  it  war,  to  keep  store 
thar,  may  be  you  mout,  as  a  favor,  do  me  a  favor  be- 
fore I  left." 

''  Well  !  may  I  be  dinged,  and  then  dug  up  and 
dinged  over  agin  !  "  This  was  said  in  a  suppressed 
whisper  by  a  person  at  my  side.  '*  Beggin' !  beggin'  ! 
ding  his  white-livered  hide  —  beg-gin  ! " 

"  Why,  William,"  replied  Mr.  Lorriby,  "  ef  it  war 
convenant,  and  the  favor  war  not  too  much,  it  mout 
be  that  I  mout  grant  it." 

"  I  thought  you  would,  Mr.  Larrabee.  The  favor 
ain't  a  big  one,  — leastways,  it  ain't  a  big  one  to  you. 
It  would  be  a  mighty"  —  But  Mr.  Bill  thought  he 
could  hardly  trust  himself  to  say  how  big  a  one  it 
would  be  to  himself. 


356  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  William  ?  " 

"Mr.  Larrabee  !  —  sir,  Mr.  Larrabee,  I  ax  it  as  a 
favor  of  you,  not  to  whip  Betsy  Ann,  —  which  is 
Miss  Betsy  Ann  Aery." 

"  Thar  now  !  "  groaned  Seaborn,  and  bowed  his 
head  in  despair. 

The  male  Lorriby  looked  upon  the  female.  Her 
face  had  relaxed  somewhat  from  its  stern  expression. 
She  answered  his  glance  by  one  which  implied  a 
conditional  affirmative. 

**  Ef  Betsy  Ann  Aery  will  behave  herself,  and 
keep  her  impudence  to  herself,  I  will  let  her  off  this 
time." 

All  eyes  turnecl  to  Betsy  Ann.  I  never  saw  her 
look  so  fine  as  she  raised  up  her  head,  tossed  her 
yellow  ringlets  back,  and  said  in  a  tone  increasing 
in  loudness  from  beginning  to  end,  — 

"  But  Betsy  Ann  Aery  won't  do  it'' 

*'  Hello  agin  thar  !  "  whispered  Seaborn,  and 
raised  his  head.  His  dying  hopes  of  a  big  row  were 
revived.  This  was  the  last  opportunity,  and  he  was 
as  eager  as  if  the  last  dollar  he  ever  expected  to 
make  had  been  pledged  upon  the  event.  I  have 
never  forgotten  his  appearance,  as,  with  his  legs  wide 
apart,  his  hands  upon  his  knees,  his  lips  apart,  but 
his  teeth  firmly  closed,  he  gazed  upon  that  scene. 

Lorriby,  the  male,  was  considerably  disconcerted, 
and  would  have  compromised  ;  but  Lorriby,  the 
female,  again  in  an  instant  resumed  her  hostile  at- 
titude, and  this  time  her  great  eyes  looked  like  two 
balls  of  fire.  She  concentrated  their  gaze  upon 
Betsy  Ann  with  a  ferocity  which  was  appalling. 
Betsy  Ann  tried  to  meet  them,  and  did  for  one  mo- 
ment ;  but  in  another  she  found  she  could  not  hold 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  357 

out  longer  ;  so  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and 
sobbed.  Mr.  Bill  could  endure  no  more.  Both  arms 
fairly  flew  out  at  full  length. 

"The  fact  ar,"  he  cried,  ''that  I  am  goin'  to  take 
the  responsibility  !  Conshequenches  may  be  conshe- 
qnenches,  but  I  shall  take  the  responsibility."  His 
countenance  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  made  up 
his  mind.  It  had  come  at  last,  and  we  were  per- 
fectly happy. 

The  female  Lorriby  turned  her  eyes  from  Betsy 
Ann,  and  fixed  them  steadily  on  Mr.  Bill.  She  ad- 
vanced a  step  forward,  and  raised  her  arms  and 
placed  them  on  her  sides.  The  male  Lorriby  placed 
himself  immediately  behind  his  mate's  right  arm, 
while  Rum,  who  seemed  to  understand  what  was 
going  on,  came  up,  and,  standing  on  his  mistress's 
left,  looked  curiously  up  at  Mr.  Bill. 

Seaborn  Byne  noticed  this  last  movement.  *'  Well, 
ef  that  don't  beat  creation  !  You  in  it  too,  is  you  } " 
he  muttered  through  his  teeth.  '*  Well,  never  do 
you  mind.  Ef  I  don't  fix  you,  and  put  you  whar 
you  '11  never  know  no  more  but  what  you  've  got  a 
tail,  may  I  be  dinged,  and  then,"  etc. 

It  is  true  that  Seaborn  had  been  counted  upon 
for  a  more  important  work  than  the  neutralizing  of 
Rum's  forces  ;  still,  I  knew  that  Mr.  Bill  wanted 
and  needed  no  assistance.  We  were  all  ready,  how- 
ever, —  that  is,  I  should  say,  all  but  Martin.  He  had 
no  griefs,  and  therefore  no  desires. 

Such  was  the  height  of  Mr.  Bill's  excitement  that 
he  did  not  even  seem  to  notice  the  hostile  demon- 
strations of  these  numerous  and  various  foes.  His 
mind  was  made  up,  and  he  was  going  right  on  to  his 
purpose. 


358  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Mr.  Larrabec,"  he  said,  firmly,  "  I  am  goin'  to 
take  the  responsibility.  I  axed  you  as  a  favor  to  do 
me  a  favor  before  I  left.  I  ain't  much  used  to  axin' 
favors  ;  but  sich  it  war  now.  It  seem  as  ef  that  favor 
cannot  be  grant.  Yea,  sich  is  the  circumstances. 
But  it  must  be  so.  Sense  I  have  been  here  they 
ain't  been  no  difficulties  betwixt  you  and  me,  nor  be- 
twixt me  and  Miss  Larrabee  ;  and  no  nothin'  of  the 
sort,  not  even  betwixt  me  and  Rum.  That  dog  have 
sometimes  snap  at  my  legs  ;  but  I  have  bore  it  for 
peace,  and  wanted  no  fuss.  Sich,  therefore,  it  was 
why  I  axed  the  favor  as  a  favor.  But  it  can't  be 
hoped,  and  so  I  takes  the  responsibility.  Mr.  Larra- 
bee, sir,  and  you,  Miss  Larrabee,  I  am  goin'  from 
this  school  right  intoo  Dukesborough,  straight  intoo 
Mr.  Bland's  store,  to  clerk  thar.  Sich  bein'  all  the 
circumstances,  I  hates  to  do  what  I  tells  you  I  'm 
goin'  to  do.  But  it  can't  be  hoped,  it  seem,  and  I  ar 
goin'  to  do  it." 

Mr.  Bill  announced  this  conclusion  in  a  very 
highly  elevated  tone. 

"  Oh,  yes,  ding  your  old  hides  of  you  !  "  I  heard  at 
my  side. 

"  Mr.  Larrabee,  and  you,  Miss  Larrabee,"  con- 
tinued the  speaker,  "  I  does  not  desires  that  Betsy 
Ann  Aery  shall  be  whipped.  I  goes  on  to  say  that 
as  sich  it  ar,  and  as  sich  the  circumstances,  Betsy 
Ann  Aery  can't  be  whipped  whar  I  ar,  ef  I  can  keep 
it  from  bein'  done." 

"You  heerd  that,  did  n't  you.?"  asked  Seaborn, 
low,  but  cruelly  triumphant;  and  Seaborn  looked  at 
Rum  as  if  considering  how  he  should  begin  the 
battle  with  him. 

Mrs.  Lorriby  seldom  spoke.  Whenever  she  did, 
it  was  to  the  point 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  359 

"  Yes,  but  Weelliam  Weelliams,  you  can't  keep  it 
from  bein'  done."  And  she  straightened  herself  yet 
taher,  and,  raising  her  hands  yet  higher  upon  her 
sides,  changed  the  angle  of  elbows  from  obtuse  to 
acute. 

"Yes,  but  I  kin,"  persisted  Mr.  Bill.  ''  Mr.  Larra- 
bee  !  Mr.  Larrabee  !  " 

This  gentleman  had  lowered  his  head,  and  was 
peering  at  Mr.  Bill  through  the  triangular  opening 
formed  by  his  mate's  side  and  arm.  The  reason  why 
Mr.  Bill  addressed  him  twice  was  because  he  had 
missed  him  when  he  threw  the  first  address  over  her 
shoulder.     The  last  was  sent  through  the  triangle. 

"  Mr.  Larrabee  !  I  say  it  kin  be  done,  and  I  'm 
goin'  to  do  it.  Sir,  little  as  I  counted  on  sich  a  case, 
yit  still  it  ar  so.  Let  the  conshequenches  be  what 
they  be,  both  now  and  some  futur  day.  Mr.  Larra- 
bee, sir,  that  whippin'  that  you  was  a-goin'  to  give 
to  Betsy  Ann  Aery  cannot  fall  upon  her  shoulders, 
and  —  that  is,  upon  her  shoulders,  and  before  my 
face.  Instid  of  sich,  sir,  you  may  jest  —  instid  of 
whippin'  her,  sir,  you  may  —  instid  of  her,  give  it, 
sir  —  notwithstandin'  and  nevertheless  —  you  may 
give  it  to  ME." 

CHAPTER  VII. 

"  Oh !  what  a  fall  was  there,  my  countrj'raen  ! 
Then  you  and  I  and  all  of  us  fell  down !  " 

If  the  pupils  of  Josiah  Lorriby's  school  had  had  the 
knowledge  of  all  tongues  ;  if  they  had  been  famil- 
iar wdth  the  histories  of  all  the  base  men  of  all  the 
ages,  they  could  have  found  no  words  in  which  to 
characterize,  and  no  person  with  whom  to  compare, 
Mr.  Bill  Williams.     If  they  had  known  what  it  was 


360  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

to  be  a  traitor,  they  might  have  admitted  that  he  was 
more  like  this,  the  most  despicable  of  all  characters, 
than  any  other.  But  they  would  have  argued  that  he 
was  baser  than  all  other  traitors,  because  he  had 
betrayed,  not  only  others,  but  himself.  Mr.  Bill  Will- 
iams, the  big  boy,  the  future  resident  of  Dukesbor- 
ough,  the  expectant  clerk,  the  vindicator  of  perse- 
cuted girlhood  in  the  person  of  the  girl  he  loved, 
the  pledge-taker  of  responsibilities,  —  that  he  should 
have  taken  the  pains,  just  before  he  was  going  away, 
to  degrade  himself  by  proposing  to  take  upon  his 
own  shoulders  the  rod  that  had  never  before  de- 
scended but  upon  the  backs  and  legs  of  children  ! 
Poor  Seaborn  Byne  !  If  I  ever  saw  expressed  in  a 
human  being's  countenance  disgust,  anger,  and  ab- 
ject hopelessness,  I  saw  them  as  I  turned  to  look  at 
him.  He  spoke  not  one  word,  not  even  in  whispers, 
but  he  looked  as  if  he  could  never  more  place  con- 
fidence in  mortal  flesh. 

When  Mr.  Bill  had  concluded  his  ultimatum,  the 
female  Lorribv's  arms  came  down,  and  the  male 
Lorriby's  head  went  up  They  sent  each  the  other 
a  smile.  Both  were  smart  enough  to  be  satisfied. 
The  latter  was  more  than  satisfied. 

"  I  am  proud  this  day  of  William  Williams.  It 
air  so,  and  I  can  but  say  I  air  proud  of  him.  Will- 
iam Williams  were  now  in  a  position  to  stand  up 
and  shine  in  his  new  spere  of  action.  If  he  went 
to  Dukesborough  to  keep  store  thar,  he  mout  now  go 
sayin'  that  as  he  had  been  a  good  scholar,  so  he 
mout  expect  to  be  a  good  clerk,  and  fit  to  be  trusted, 
yea,  with  thousands  upon  thousands,  ef  sich  mout 
be  the  case.  But  as  it  was  so,  and  as  he  have  been 
to  us  all  as  it  war,  and  no  difficulties,  and  no  nothin' 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  36 1 

of  the  sort,  and  he  war  goin',  and  it  mout  be  soon, 
yea,  it  mout  be  to-morrow,  from  this  school  straight 
intoo  a  store,  I  cannot,  nor  I  cannot.  No,  far  be  it. 
This  were  a  skene  too  solemn  and  too  lovely  for  sich. 
I  cannot,  nor  I  cannot.  William  Williams  may  now 
take  his  seat." 

Mr.  Bill  obeyed.  I  was  glad  that  he  did  not  look 
at  Betsy  Ann  as  she  turned  to  go  to  hers.  But  she 
looked  at  him.  I  saw  her,  and,  little  as  I  was,  I  saw 
also  that  if  he  ever  had  had  any  chance  of  winning 
her  it  was  sfone  from  him  forever.  It  was  now  late 
in  the  afternoon,  and  we  were  dismissed.  Without 
saying  a  word  to  any  one,  Mr.  Bill  took  his  arith- 
metic and  slate  (for  ciphering,  as  it  was  called  then, 
was  his  only  study).  We  knew  what  it  meant,  for 
we  felt,  as  well  as  he,  that  this  was  his  last  day  at 
his  school.  As  my  getting  to  school  depended  upon 
continuance,  I  did  not  doubt  that  it  was  my  last,  also. 

On  the  way  home,  but  not  until  separating  from 
all  the  other  boys,  Mr.  Bill  showed  some  disposition 
to  boast. 

"You  all  little  fellows  was  monstous  badly  skeerd 
this  evening.  Squire." 

*'  Was  n't  you  scared  too  }  "   I  asked. 

"  Skeerd  }  I  'd  like  to  see  the  school-master  that 
could  skeer  me.     I  skeerd  of  Joe  Larrabee.^" 

**  I  did  not  think  you  were  scared  of  him." 

"  Skeerd  of  who,  then  ?  Miss  Larrabee  }  Old 
Red  Eye  'i  She  mout  be  redder-eyed  than  what  she 
ar,  and  then  not  skeer  me.  Why,  look  here.  Squire,. 
how  would  I  look  goin'  into  Dukesborough,  into  Mr. 
Bland  and  Jones'  store,  right  from  bein'  skeerd  of 
old  Miss  Larrabee  ;  to  be  runnin'  right  intoo  Mr. 
Bland  and  Jones'  store,  and  old  Mehetibilly  Larra- 


362  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

bee  right  arter  me,  or  old  Joe  nuther?  It  wur  well 
for  him  that  he  never  struck  Betsy  Ann  Aery.  Ef 
he  had  a  struck  her,  Joe  Larrabee's  strikin'  days 
would  be  over." 

**  But  was  n't  you  goin'  to  take  her  whippin'  for 
her .?  " 

"  Lookee  here,  Squire,  I  did  n't  take  it,  did  I  1 " 
**  No,  but  you  said  you  was  ready  to  take  it." 
"  Poor  little  fellow  !  "  he  said,  compassionately. 
"  Squire,  you  are  yit  young  in  the  ways  of  this  sor- 
rowful and  ontimely  world.  Joe  Larrabee  knows 
me,  and  I  knows  Joe  Larrabee,  and,  as  the  feller  said, 
that  ar  sufficient." 

We  were  now  at  our  gate.     IVIr.  Bill  bade  me  good 
evening,  and  passed  on  ;  and  thus  ended  his  pupil- 
age and  mine  at  the  school  of  Josiah  Lorriby. 

II. 

THE   PURSUIT    OF    MR.    ADIEL   SLACK. 

CHAPTER   I. 

"  Companions 
That  do  converse,  and  waste  the  time  together, 
Whose  souls  do  bear  an  equal  yoke  of  love." 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

Mr.  Benjamin  (but  as  everybody  called  him,  Un- 
cle Ben)  Pea  resided  two  miles  out  of  Dukesbor- 
ough.  He  was  a  small  farmer,  —  not  small  in  per- 
son, but  a  farmer  on  a  small  scale.  He  raised  a  fair 
crop  of  corn,  a  trifle  of  cotton,  great  quantities  of 
potatoes,  and  some  pinders.  It  was  said  that  in  his 
younger  days  he  used  to  be  brisk  in  his  business, 
and  to  make  something  by  hauling  wood  to  town. 
He  spent  as  little  as  he  could,  and  saved  as  much  as 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  363 

ne  could  ;  but  for  a  certain  purpose  he  kept  as  good 
an  establishment  as  he  could.  His  little  wagon  used 
to  be  good  enough  to  carry  him  and  the  old  woman 
to  town  ;  yet  he  bought  a  second-hand  gig,  and  did 
other  things  in  proportion.  It  was  extravagant,  and 
he  knew  it,  but  he  had  a  purpose.  That  purpose 
was  to  marry  off  his  daughter  Georgiana.  Now, 
Georgiana  had  told  him  for  years  and  years,  even 
before  the  old  woman  died,  that  if  he  wanted  to 
marry  her  off  (a  thing  she  cared  nothing  about  her- 
self) the  only  way  to  do  that  was  for  the  family  to  go 
in  a  decent  way.  And  now  that  the  old  woman  had 
died,  and  her  father  had  grown  old,  she  had  her  own 
way,  and  that  was  as  decent  as  could  be  afforded, 
and  no  more. 

Miss  Georgiana  Pea  was  heavy,  —  heavy  of  being 
married  off,  and  heavy  of  body.  Her  weight  for 
fifteen  years  at  the  least  had  not  been  probably  less 
than  one  hundred  and  seventy  pounds.  In  her  sea- 
sons of  highest  health,  which  were  probably  oftener 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  fall  than  at  any  other  pe- 
riod of  the  year,  people  used  to  guess  that  it  might 
be  even  more  ;  but  there  was  no  getting  at  it  at 
any  time,  because  she  always  stoutly  refused  to  be 
weighed.  True,  she  laced  ;  but  that  did  not  seem 
to  diminish  her  materially ;  for  what  was  pressed 
down  in  one  region  reappeared  in  another.  She 
had  a  magnificent  bust.  This  bust  was  her  pride  ; 
that  was  evident.  Indeed,  she  as  good  as  confessed 
as  much  to  me  one  day.  I  knew  the  family  well  ; 
she  did  n't  mind  me.  I  was  a  very  small  boy,  and  she 
was  aware  that  I  considered  that  bust  a  wonderful 
work  of  nature.  I  have  often  been  amused,  since  I 
have  grown  old  and  less  impressible  by  such  things, 


364  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

to  remember  ht)vv  tremendously  magnificent  I  used 
to  regard  the  bust  of  Georgiana  Pea. 

Yet  she  did  n't  marry.  The  old  gentleman  had 
been  so  anxious  about  it  that  he  had  lon^:  aiio  rather 
given  it  out  in  a  public  way  that  upon  her  marriage, 
with  his  consent  (she  was  the  only  child  ;  Peter- 
son died  when  a  boy,  of  measles),  he  should  give  up 
everything,  houses,  lands,  furniture,  and  money,  and 
live  upon  the  bounty  of  his  son-in-law.  These  sev- 
eral items  of  property  had  been  often  appraised  by 
neighbors  as  accurately  as  could  be  done  (considering 
that  the  exact  amount  of  money  could  not  be  veri- 
fied), in  view  of  ascertaining  for  their  own  satisfac- 
tion what  her  dowry  might  be.  The  appraisement 
had  gone  through  many  gradations  of  figures  while 
the  bridegroom  delayed  his  coming.  At  the  period  of 
which  I  am  now  telling,  there  were  those  who  main- 
tained that  Uncle  Ben  was  worth  four  thousand  dol- 
lars ;  others  shook  their  heads,  and  said  thirty-five 
hundred  ;  while  others  yet,  who  professed  to  know 
more  about  it  than  anybody  else,  they  did  n't  care 
who  it  was,  insisted  that  three  thousand  was  the 
outside.  Many  a  man,  it  seemed  to  me,  and  some 
that  would  have  been  worth  having,  might  have 
been  caught  by  that  bust  and  that  prospective  fort- 
une. But  they  were  not :  and  now,  at  thirty,  or 
thereabout,  she  was  evidently  of  the  opinion  that 
even  if  she  had  many  desires  to  enter  into  the  es- 
tate of  marriage  their  chances  of  gratification  were 
few.  Indeed,  Miss  Pea  was  at  that  stage  when  she 
ivas  beginning  to  speak  at  times  of  the  other  sex 
with  disgust. 

Mr.  Jacob  Spouter  resided  in  the  very  heart  of 
Dukesborough,  and  kept  a  hotel.     The  town  being 


DUKESBOROUGH   TALES.  .     365 

small,  his  business  was  small.  He  was  a  small  man, 
but  looked  bright,  capable,  and  business-like.  He 
dressed  pretty  well.  But  this  was  for  effect,  and 
was  both  a  delusion  and  a  snare.  It  was  for  a  sign 
for  his  hotel.  To  look  at  him  you  would  have  sup- 
posed that  he  kept  a  good  hotel  ;  but  he  did  not.  It 
is  surprising,  indeed,  to  consider  how  few  men  there 
are  who  do.  But  this  is  a  great  theme,  and  entirely 
independent  of  what  I  wish  to  tell,  except  so  far  as 
it  may  relate  to  the  fact  that  Mr.  Spouter  had  yet 
living  with  him  an  only  child,  a  daughter,  whose 
name  was  Angeline.  Miss  Angeline,  instead  of  tak- 
ing after  the  Spouters,  who  were  short,  took  after 
the  Fanigans,  who  were  long.  She  was  a  very  thin 
young  lady,  almost  too  thin  to  look  well,  and  her 
hair  and  complexion  were  rather  sallow.  But  then 
that  hair  curled,  —  every  hair  curled. 

Who  has  not  a  weakness  }  Miss  Pea  had  hers,  as  we 
have  seen  ;  and  now  we  shall  see,  as  everybody  for 
years  had  seen,  that  Miss  Spouter  had  hers  also.  It 
was  an  innocent  one  :  it  was  her  curls.  In  the  mem- 
ory of  man  that  hair  had  never  been  done  up  ;  but 
through  all  changes  of  circumstances  and  weather  it 
had  hung  in  curls,  just  as  it  hung  on  the  day  when 
this  story  begins.  They  had  been  complimented 
thousands  of  times,  and  by  hundreds  of  persons  ; 
the  guests  of  years  had  noticed  them,  and  had  ut- 
tered and  smiled  their  approbation  ;  and  there  had 
been  times  when  Miss  Spouter  hoped,  in  spite  of 
the  want  of  other  as  striking  charms,  and  in  spite  of 
the  universally  known  fact  that  her  father  had  all 
ways  been  insolvent  and  always  would  be,  that  those 
curls  would  eventually  entangle  the  person  without 
whom  she  felt  that  she  could  never  be  fully  blest 


366  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

While  this  person  was  a  man,  it  was  not  any  partic- 
ular individual  of  the  species.  Many  a  time  had 
she  seen  one  who,  she  thought,  would  answer.  She 
was  not  very  fastidious,  but  she  positively  believed 
(and  this  belief  made  her  appear  to  be  anxious)  that, 
in  view  of  all  the  circumstances  of  her  life,  the  best 
thing  that  she  could  do  for  herself  would  be  to 
marry.  Yet  Miss  Spouter  did  not  regard  herself  as 
wholly  selfish  in  this  wish  ;  for  there  was  something 
in  her,  she  thought,  which  she  constantly  under- 
stood to  be  telling  her  that  if  she  had  the  opportu- 
nity she  could  make  some  man  extremely  happy. 

But  though  those  curls  had  been  so  often  praised, 
—  yea,  though  they  had  been  sometimes  handled,  — 
to  such  a  degree  did  people's  admiration  of  them  ex- 
tend, that  Miss  Spouter,  like  her  contemporary  in 
the  country,  was  unmarried,  and  beginning  to  try 
to  feel  as  if  she  despised  the  vain  and  foolish  world 
of  man. 

These  young  ladies  were  friends,  and  always  had 
been.  They  were  so  much  attached  that  each 
seemed,  to  a  superficial  observer,  to  believe  that  she 
had  been  born  for  but  one  special  purpose,  and  that 
was  to  help  the  other  to  get  married  ;  for  Miss 
Spouter  believed  and  Miss  Pea  knew  that  marriage 
was  a  subject  which,  without  intermission,  occupied 
the  mind  of  her  friend.  It  was  pleasant  to  hear  Miss 
Pea  extol  Miss  Spouter's  curls  ;  then  it  was  pleasant 
to  hear  Miss  Spouter,  who  was  more  sentimental 
and  the  better  talker  of  the  two,  praise  Miss  Pea's 
"  figger,"  by  which  term  she  meant  only  her  bust. 
No  one  ever  dreamed  that  it  was  possible  for  any 
jealousy  to  rise  between  them;  for  Miss  Spouter 
had  no  figure  worth  mentioning,  and   not  a  hair  of 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  367 

Miss  Pea's  head  could  be  curled.  Not  only  so,  but 
the  fact  was  that  in  her  heart  of  hearts  (so  curious 
a  thing  is  even  the  most  constant  friendship)  neither 
thought  much  of  the  other's  special  accomplish- 
ment ;  rather,  each  thought  that  there  was  entirely 
too  much  of  it,  especially  Miss  Spouter  touching  the 
"  figger."  If  Miss  Pea  considered  the  property  quali- 
fication in  her  favor,  Miss  Spouter  did  not  forget 
that  she  resided  right  in  the  very  heart  of  Dukes- 
borough,  and  that  her  father  kept  a  hotel.  Now,  as 
long  as  the  world  stands,  persons  of  their  condition 
who  live  in  town  will  feel  a  little  ahead  of  those  who 
live  in  the  country  ;  while  the  latter,  though  never 
exactly  knowing  why,  will  admit  that  it  is  so.  Miss 
Pea  was  generally  very  much  liked  by  the  neigh- 
bors ;  Miss  Spouter  had  not  made  a  great  number 
of  friends.  Probably  town  airs  had  something  to  do 
in  the  matter.  Miss  Pea  was  considered  the  superior 
character  of  the  two,  but  neither  of  them  thousfht 
so  ;  Miss  Spouter,  especially,  who  knew  the  mean- 
ing of  many  more  words  in  the  dictionary  than  her 
friend,  and  who  had  read  "  Alonzo  and  Melissa"  and 
the  "  Three  Spaniards,"  until  she  had  the  run  of 
them  fully,  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing. 

Miss  Spouter  was  fond  of  visiting  Miss  Pea,  es- 
pecially in  watermelon  time.  Miss  Pea  valued  the 
friendship  of  Miss  Spouter  because  it  afforded  her 
frequent  opportunities  of  staying  at  a  hotel,  a  privi- 
lege which  she  well  knew  not  many  country  girls 
enjoyed.  To  stay  there,  not  as  a  boarder,  but  as  a 
friend  of  the  family,  to  eat  there  and  sleep  there,  and 
not  to  pay  for  either  of  these  distinctions  as  other 
people  did,  but  to  do  these  things  on  invitation. 
Now,  while  Miss  Pea  got  much  better  eating  and 


368  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

sleeping  at  home,  yet  she  could  but  consider  the 
former  as  privileges.  She  never  would  forget  that 
once  when  there  was  a  show  in  Dukesborough,  given 
by  a  ventriloquist  who  was  also  a  juggler,  she  had 
been  at  Mr.  J.  Spouter's,  and  had  been  introduced  to 
the  wonderful  man,  and  his  wife  too,  and  had  heard 
them  talk  about  general  matters  just  as  other  people 
did. 

But  time  was  waxing  old.  The  bust  had  about 
ceased  to  be  ambitions,  and  the  curls,  though  wish- 
ful yet,  were  falling  into  the  habit  of  giving  only  de- 
spondent shakes. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Miss  Spouter  sat  in  the  hotel  parlor  ;  it  was  on 
the  first  floor,  and  opened  upon  the  street.  In  it 
were  two  wooden  rocking-chairs,  six  split-bottoms, 
and  a  half-round.  I  shall  not  undertake  to  describe 
the  window-curtains.  She  w^as  pensive  and  silent  ; 
the  still  summer  evening  disposed  her  to  meditation. 
She  sat  silent  and  pensive,  but  not  gloomy.  Look- 
ing out  from  the  window,  she  espied  on  the  further 
side  of  the  square  Miss  Pea,  who  was  in  the  act  of 
turning  towards  her.  Here  she  came,  in  yellow 
calico  and  a  green  calash.  As  she  w^alked,  her  arms 
were  crossed  peacefully  upon  her  chest. 

"  Howdye,  stranger  ! "  saluted  Miss  Spouter.  They 
had  not  met  in  a  fortnight. 

"  Stranger  yourself."  answered  Miss  Pea,  with  a 
smile  and  a  sigh.  They  embraced  ;  the  curls  fell 
upon  the  bust,  and  the  bust  fostered  the  curls,  as 
only  long-tried  friends  can  fall  upon  and  foster. 
Miss  Pea  came  to  stay  all  night ;  never  had  they 
slept  in  the  same  house  without  sleeping  together. 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  369 

"Well,  Georgy,"  Miss  Spouter  remarked,  sweetly, 
but  almost  invidiously,  as  they  were  getting  into  bed, 
"  figger  is  figger." 

"  It 's  no  sich  a  thing,"  answered  Miss  Pea,  with 
firm  self-denial ;  *'it  's  curls,  you  know  it 's  curls." 

"  No,  George,  its  figger." 

"  Angeline  Spouter,  you  know  it  ain't ;  it 's  curls, 
and  you  know  it  's  curls." 

They  blew  out  the  candle,  and  for  a  short  time 
continued  this  friendly  discussion  ;  but  soon  Miss 
Pea  got  the  best  of  it,  as  usual,  and  Miss  Spouter, 
by  silence  and  other  signs,  admitted  that  it  was 
curls. 

*'  We  've  been  sleeping  a  long  time  together^ 
George." 

"  We  have  that." 

"Ten  years." 

"  Yes,  fifteen  of  'em." 

"  Gracious  me  !    fifteen  t  " 

"  Yes,  indeed." 

"Well,  but  I  was  but  a  child  then." 

Miss  Pea  coughed.  She  was  the  elder  by  exactly 
six  months. 

"Did  we  think  ten  years  ago  that  you  would  now 
be  a  Pea  and  I  a  Spouter  }  " 

"  I  did  n't  think  much  about  myself,  but  I  had  no 
idea  you  would." 

"  Yet  so  it  is  ;  you  with  your  figger,  and  yet  a 
Pea." 

"  And  what  is  worse,  you  with  your,  curls  and  yet 
a  Spouter." 

"  No,  not  worse.  You  ought  to  have  been  mar- 
ried years  ago,  Georgiana  Pea." 

24 


370  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  If    I    had   had   your   curls,  and   had    wanted    to 
marry,  I shoitid  3.  been  married  and  forgot  it." 
"  No,  George,  I  never  had  the  requisite  figger." 
*'  Angeline  Spouter,  do  hush." 

"  Suppose  we  had  married,  George  } " 

"Well." 

*'  I  think  I  could  have  made  my  husband  love  me 
as  few  men  have  ever  loved,  be  they  whomsoever 
they  might." 

'*  Ah  !  everybody  knows  that." 

"  No,  alas  !  none  but  thee,  George." 

**  Yes,  but  I  know  better." 

Miss  Spouter  again  gave  it  up. 

Miss  Pea  would  fain  have  gone  to  sleep.  Her 
hour  for  that  purpose  had  come.  But  there  was  yet 
no  slumber  upon  the  eyelids  of  Miss  Spouter.  She 
talked  away.  She  made  hypothetical  cases  ;  sup- 
posing, for  instance,  they  were  married.  Miss  Spouter 
ventured  to  look  far  into  such  a  possible  future,  and 
made  some  speculations  upon  the  best  and  properest 
ways  of  bringing  up  families.  It  appeared  during 
the  conversation  that  Miss  Spouter,  as  a  general 
thing,  liked  girls  in  families  better  than  boys,  while 
Miss  Pea's  preference  for  boys  was  bold  and  de- 
ided.  She  admitted  Miss  Pea's  argument  to  be 
ue,  that  girls  are  prettier,  especially  if  they  have 
iris  ;  but,  La  me !  they  are  such  a  trouble  !  Be-^ 
^xdes,  boys  were  bad.  She  must  admit  that  too. 
But  then  they  could  be  whipped  and  made  to  mind. 

"  Oh,  you  cruel  creature  !  "  right  there  exclaimed 
the  merciful  Miss  Spouter. 

"  No,   Angeline,"    remonstrated   her   companion, 


DUKESEOROUGH  TALES.  37 1 

"  no,  I  am  not  cruel ;  but  I  believe  in  makin'  chil- 
dren mind  and  behave  theirselves."  Miss  Pea  was 
as  firm  as  a  rock. 

*'  So  do  I,"  replied  Miss  Spouter ;  "  but  I  can't  un- 
derstand how  a  woman,  a  good  woman,  and  a  kind 
woman,  and  an  affectionate  woman,  and  a  woman 
that  had  —  La,  bless  me  !  how  could  such  a  woman 
beat  her  own  family  to  death,  when  in  the  wide,  wide 
world  there  was  none  others  to  stand  by  them  in  the 
solemn  hour,  and  "  — 

"  No  !  no  !  no ! "  interposed  Miss  Pea,  "  I  don't 
mean  that.  What  I  do  mean  —  La !  Angeline 
Spouter,  what  are  you  and  me  a  talkin'  about  ?  It 's 
redickerlous.     I  'm  done." 

Miss  Pea  laughed  outright.  But  Miss  Spouter 
sighed,  and  remarked  that  it  was  n't  in  people  to  say 
neither  what  was  to  be,  nor  what  was  n't  to  be. 

"  George,  I  do  believe  you  are  going  to  sleep." 

Miss  Pea  declared  that  she  was  n't,  and,  like  all 
persons  of  her  size,  she  thought  she  was  telling  the 
truth.  Miss  Spouter  had  one  or  two  other  remarks 
which  she  always  made  on  such  occasions,  and  which 
she  wanted  to  make  now. 

"  Georgiana  Pea,  do  you  or  do  you  not  ever  expect 
to  marry  }     I  ask  you  candidly." 

"  No,  Angeline,  I  don't.  I  may  have  had  thoughts, 
I  may  have  had  expectations  ;  pap  looks  as  if  he 
would  go  distracted  if  I  don't  marry ;  but  to  tell 
you  the  truth,  I  have  about  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  there's  more  marries  now  than  ever  does  well 
Pap  declares  that  he  means  to  marry  me  off  to  some- 
body before  he  dies.  He  thinks  that  I  could  n't  take 
care  of  myself  if  he  was  to  die,  and  that  he  takes 


372  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

care  of  me  now  himself.  I  think  I  *m  the  one  that 
takes  care  of  ////;/,  and  I  think  I  could  take  as  good 
care  of  myself  then  as  I  do  now.  He  says  I  shall 
marry,  though,  and  I  'm  waitin'  to  see  how  it  '11  be. 
But  I  tell  you,  Angeline  Spouter,  that  there  's  more 
marries  now  than  ever  does  well." 

**  And  —  well,"  answered  Miss  Spouter,  '*  and  so 
have  I  concluded  about  it.  It  is  the  honest  expres- 
sion of  the  genuine  sentiments  of  my  innermost 
heart.  What  is  man  }  A  deceitful,  vain,  and  fool- 
ish creature,  who  will  to-day  talk  his  honey  words 
and  praise  a  girl's  curls,  and  to-morrow  he  is  further 
off  than  when  we  first  laid  our  eyes  on  him.  What 
is  your  opinion  of  man,  George }  What  now  is  your 
opinion  of  Tom  Dyson,  who  used  to  melt  before  the 
sight  of  you  like  summer  clouds  ere  the  sun  had 
set  ->  " 

"  I  think  of  Tom  Dyson  like  I  think  of  Barney 
Bolton,  who  used  to  praise  your  curls  just  like  they 
were  so  much  gold,  and  like,  I  think,  of  all  of  'em, 
and  that 's  about  as  much  as  I  think  of  an  old  dead 
pine-tree  or  post-oak." 

Miss  Pea  had  not  read  many  books,  like  Miss 
Spouter,  and  must  necessarily,  therefore,  borrow  her 
comparisons  from  objects  familiar  to  her  country 
life.  Miss  Spouter  noticed  the  difference,  but  re- 
frained from  remarking  on  it. 

"And  yet,  Georgiana,  there  is  something  in  me; 
I  feel  it.  It  tells  me  that  I  could  have  made  Barney 
Bolton  much  happier  than  Malinda  Jones  has.  Bar- 
ney Bolton  is  not  happy,  Georgiana  Pea." 

Miss  Pea  only  coughed. 

•*  Yes,  indeed  !  Alas  !  I  see  it  in  his  eye  ;  I  see 
it  in  his  walk  ;  I  see  it  in  his  every  action.     The 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  373 

image  of  Angeline  Spouter  is  in  his  breast,  and  it 
will  stay  there  forever." 

Miss  Pea  was  always  perfectly  silent,  and  endeav- 
ored to  feel  solemn  when  this  last  speech  was  said. 

"  If  you  were  to  marry,  George,  I  should  be  the 
lonesomest  creature  in  the  wide,  wide  world." 

"  Ah,  well  !  when  I  marry,  which  is  never  going 
to  be  the  case  (that  is,  exceptin'  pap  do  go  dis- 
tracted and  hunt  me  up  a  good  chance),  you  '11  be 
married  and  forgot  it,  and  that  little  curly-headed 
girl  will  be  readin',  ritin',  and  cypherin'."  Miss  Pea 
yawned,  and  laughed  slightly. 

"  Never,  never  !  But  won't  you  let  your  little  boy 
come  sometimes  in  a  passing  hour  to  see  a  lonesome 
girl,  who  once  was  your  friend,  but  now,  alas !  aban- 
doned }'' 

"Angeline  Spouter,  do  hush." 

"  George,  it  is  very  warm  to-night.     Is  it  late  t  " 
"I  should  —  think  —  it  was,"  answered  Miss  Pea, 
and  snored. 

Miss  Spouter  lay  for  some  time  awake,  but  silent. 
She  then  lifted  the  curtain  from  the  window,  through 
which  the  moon,  high  in  heaven,  shone  upon  the 
bed,  withdrew  from  her  cap  five  or  six  curls,  ex- 
tended them  upon  her  snowy  breast,  smiled  dis- 
mally, put  them  up  again,  looked  a  moment  at  her 
companion,  then  abruptly  turned  her  back  to  her 
and  went  to  sleep. 


374  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 


CHAPTER    III. 

**  Is  all  the  counsel  that  we  too  have  shared, 
The  sisters'  vows,  the  hours  that  we  have  spent 
When  we  have  chid  the  hasty-footed  time 
For  parting  us—  O,  and  is  all  forgot  ? '' 

Midsummer-Night's  Dream. 

But  friendship,  like  other  good  things,  has  ene« 
mies.  One  of  the  most  dangerous  of  these  is  a 
third  person.  These  beings  are  among  the  most  in- 
convenient and  troublesome  upon  earth.  Not  often 
do  confidential  conversations  take  place  in  a  com- 
pany of  three,  especially  conversations  appertaining 
to  friendship  or  love.  When  sentiment,  hot  from 
the  heart,  has  to  move  in  triangles,  it  must  often 
meet  with  hindrances,  and  cool  itself  before  it  has 
reached  its  destination.  As  in  mathematics,  be- 
tween two  points,  so  in  social  life  between  two 
hearts,  the  shortest  way  is  a  straight  line.  A  third 
person  makes  a  divergence  and  a  delay.  Third  per- 
sons have  done  more  to  separate  very  friends  and 
lovers  than  all  the  world  besides.  They  had  got- 
ten between  other  persons  before,  and  now  one  of 
them  had  come  to  get  between  Miss  Spouter  and 
Miss  Pea. 

Adiel  Slack  had  left  his  native  Massachusetts, 
and  from  going  to  and  fro  upon  the  earth  came  in 
an  evil  day  and  put  up  at  the  inn  of  Jacob  Spouter. 
He  was  tall,  deep-voiced,  big-footed,  and  the  most 
deliberate-looking  man  that  had  ever  been  in  Dukes- 
borough.  He  w^as  one  of  those  imperturbable  Yan- 
kees that  could  fool  you  when  you  were  watching 
him  just  as  well  as  when  you  were  not.  When  he 
said  that  he  was  twenty-eight  his  last  birthday,  his 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  375 

fresh-looking  hair,  his  unwrinkled  and  unblushing 
cheek,  and  his  entire  freedom  from  all  signs  of  wear 
and  care  made  one  believe  that  it  must  be  so.  If 
he  had  said  that  he  was  forty-five,  the  gravity  of  his 
countenance,  the  deliberation  of  his  gait,  and  the 
deep  worldly  wisdom  of  his  eye  would  have  made 
one  believe  that  he  spoke  truly. 

The  mere  arrival  of  such  a  person  in  that  small 
community  must  necessarily  create  some  stir.  He 
was  decidedly  the  most  remarkable  of  all  the  pas- 
sengers who  came  by  that  morning's  stage.  While 
they  ate  their  breakfast  with  that  haste  which  is 
peculiar  to  the  traveling  public,  he  took  his  time. 
The  stage  went  away  and  left  him  at  the  table  eat- 
ing his  fifth  biscuit,  while  Mrs.  Spouter's  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  him  with  that  steadfast  look  with  which 
she  was  wont  to  regard  all  persons  who  ate  at  her 
table  more  than  she  thought  was  fair.  He  took  an- 
other biscuit,  looked  about  for  more  butter,  and  at- 
tempted to  open  a  conversation  with  that  lady  ;  but 
she  was  not  in  the  mood  to  be  communicative,  so  he 
set  to  the  work  of  studying  her.  He  made  her  out 
to  be  a  woman  of  a  serious  turn  of  mind,  less  atten- 
tive to  dress  than  her  husband',  but  at  the  same  time 
aspiring,  and  possibly  with  propriety  and  with  suc- 
cess, to  be  the  head  of  the  family.  After  breakfast 
he  stood  about,  sat  about,  picked  his  teeth  ("  with  a 
ivory  lancet,  blamed  if  it  were  n't,"  Mr.  Spouter 
said),  then  took  his  hat  and  strolled  about  the  village 
all  the  forenoon.  He  went  into  both  the  stores,  got 
acquainted  with  the  doctor  and  the  blacksmith  and 
the  shoemaker,  found  and  bargained  for  the  rent  of 
a  room,  and  at  dinner  announced  himself  a  citizen  of 
Georgia  and  a  merchant  of  Dukesborough.     In  less 


376  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

than  a  week  a  small  stock  of  goods  had  arrived,  and 
were  neatly  arranged  in  the  room,  over  the  door  of 
which  hung  a  sign-board,  painted  by  himself,  which 
made  Mr.  Boggs  and  Messrs.  Bland  &  Jones  wish 
either  that  they  had  never  had  sign-boards,  or  that 
Adiel  Slack,  dry-goods  merchant,  had  never  come 
there. 

Being  a  single  man,  Mr,  Slack  boarded  at  the 
hotel  of  J.  Spouter.  Now,  no  sooner  was  it  settled 
that  he  was  to  become  a  citizen  than  Miss  Spouter, 
according  to  ancient  usage  in  such  cases,  felt  her- 
self to  be  yielding  to  the  insidious  influences  of  yet 
another  love.  Who  knew,  she  thought,  that  the  fond 
dream  of  her  life  was  not  destined  now  to  become  a 
blissful  realization  ?  The  fact  that  Mr.  Slack  had 
come  from  afar  made  her  sentimental  soul  only  the 
more  hopeful.  How  this  was  so  she  could  not  tell  ; 
but  it  was  so,  and  the  good  girl  began  at  once  to 
bestow  the  most  assiduous  cultivation  upon  every 
charm  which  she  thought  she  possessed.  Mr.  Slack 
soon  began  to  be  treated  with  more  consideration 
than  any  of  the  boarders.  He  had  within  a  week 
moved  from  Mr.  Spouter's  end  of  the  table  up  to 
Mrs.  Spouter's,  and  become,  as  it  were,  that  lady's 
left  bower ;  Miss  Angeline  being,  of  course,  her  right. 
The  hot  biscuit  were  always  handed  first  to  him,  and 
if  anybody  got  a  hot  waffle  it  was  he.  People  used 
to  look  up  towards  Mrs.  Spouter  and  get  occasional 
glimpses  of  little  plates  of  fresh  butter  and  pre- 
serves that  tried  to  hide  behind  the  castors  or  the 
candle-stick.  When  there  was  pie,  Mr.  Slack  was 
helped  first ;  because,  among  other  things,  he  was 
the  more  sure  of  getting  another  piece,  if  the  pie, 
as  it  sometimes  would  happen,  in  spite  of  precau- 
tion,  should  not  go  around  the  second  time. 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  377 

The  servants  did  not  like  him,  because  he  never 
gave  them  a  kind  word  nor  a  cent  of  money.  But 
let  any  one  of  them  omit  to  hand  the  best  things  to 
him  first.  Oh,  the  partiality  that  was  shown  as 
plain  as  day  to  that  man  !  Everybody  saw  it,  and 
spoke  of  it  among  confidential  friends.  Some  said 
it  was  a  sin  ;  some  said  it  was  a  shame  ;  and  som.e 
went  so  far  as  to  say  it  was  both. 

Among  the  boarders  was  one  whom  we  have  seen 
before.  For  Mr.  Bill  Williams  had  now  been  in- 
stalled in  his  office,  and  had  already  begun  to  take 
new  responsibilities.  When  this  conduct  towards 
the  new-comer  had  become  notorious,  he  was  heard 
by  many  persons  even  to  swear  that  he  'd  "  be 
dinged  ef  he  had  had  a  hot  waffle,  even  when  thar 
was  waffles,  sense  that  dadblasted  Yankee  had 
moved  up  to  old  Miss  Spouter's  eend.  As  for  the 
second  piece  of  pie,  he  had  done  gin  out  ever  hearin' 
of  the  like  any  more,  thro'out  the  ages  of  a  sorrow- 
ful and  ontimely  world."  He  spoke  with  feeling,  it 
is  true  ;  but  he  was  a  clerk  in  Mr.  Bland's  store, 
and  he  thought  that  if  he  could  not  take  some  re- 
sponsibility, the  question  was  who  could.  ''  Conse- 
quenches  mout  be  consequenches,"  said  Mr.  Bill, 
"  be  they  now  or  at  some  futer  day.  I  takes  the  re- 
sponsibility to  say  that  the  case  ar  a  onfair,  and  a 
imposition  on  the  boarders  and  on  the  transhent 
people,  and  it  war  also  a  shame  on  Dukesborough, 
and  also"  —  Mr.  Bill  shook  his  head  for  the  con- 
clusion. 

But  in  spite  of  everybody  and  everything,  Mr. 
Slack  kept  his  place.  He  soon  discovered  Miss 
Spouter's  weakness  and  her  passion.  Flattering  as 
it  might  be  to  find  himself  the  favored  object  of  her 


3/8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

pursuit,  yet  the  reflection  that  her  only  capital  was 
a  head  of  curls,  which  in  time  would  fade,  caused 
him  to  determine,  after  making  his  calculations,  that 
no  profit  was  to  be  netted  in  being  caught.  It  was 
not  to  be  overlooked,  however,  that  there  would  be, 
if  not  an  entire  saving  of  expense,  at  least  a  post- 
ponement of  its  payment  in  keeping  his  thoughts  to 
himself,  and  in  seeming  to  be  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer  the  vortex  which  was  ready  to  swallow  him 
up.  The  terms  of  board  at  Mr.  Spouter's  included 
monthly  payments.  These  did  not  suit  calculations 
which  were  made  upon  the  principle  of  collecting 
his  own  dues  at  once,  and  postponing  his  payments 
as  long  as  possible,  and  if  possible  to  the  end  of 
time.  Now,  he  guessed  that,  great  as  were  Mr. 
Spouter's  needs,  that  affectionate  father  would  not 
be  the  man  to  run  the  risk  of  driving  off  his  daugh- 
ter's suitor  by  worrying  him  with  dues  for  a  little 
item  of  board,  which  might  all  come  back  again  into 
the  family.  In  addition  to  this,  he  was  not  insen- 
sible to  the  advantage  of  maintaining  his  seat  at  the 
dinner-table,  where  biscuits,  waffles,  and  pies,  when 
they  came  at  all,  were  wont  to  make  their  first  ap- 
pearance. These  several  matters,  being  actual 
money  to  him,  were  not  to  be  overlooked  by  a  man 
who  did  nothing  without  deliberation.  After  delib- 
erating, therefore,  he  determined  to  so  conduct  him- 
self before  the  Spouters  as  to  create  the  hope  that 
the  time  would  come  when  he  would  solicit  the 
hand  of  her  who  long  had  been  willing  to  bestow 
it  upon  somebody.  But  he  was  careful  to  keep  his 
own  advances  and  his  meetings  of  advances  without 
the  pale  of  such  contingencies  as  he  had  learned 
were  accustomed  in  the  South  to  follow  breaches  of 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  379 

marriage  contracts.  If  there  was  anything  that  Mr. 
Slack  was  afraid  of,  it  was  a  cane,  or  perhaps  a  cow- 
hide. He  maintained  his  place  at  the  table,  there- 
fore, and  took  what  it  afforded  in  the  manner  of  a 
man  who  was  very  near  to  being  one  of  the  family. 
He  chatted  in  a  very  familiar  manner  with  Mrs. 
Spouter,  and  sympathized  with  her  and  Mr.  Spout- 
er's  complaints  of  the  high  price  of  everything  ex- 
cept board.  He  lounged  in  the  parlor,  where  he 
told  to  Miss  Angeline  touching  stories  of  his  boy- 
hood's home.  He  bestowed  due  admiration  upon 
those  curls,  which,  every  time  he  saw  them,  re- 
minded him  of  a  portrait  of  his  mother  (now  a  saint 
in  heaven),  taken  when  she  was  a  girl  eighteen  years 
old.  Then  he  spoke  feelingly  of  how  he  had  been 
a  wanderer,  and  how  he  began  to  think  it  was  time 
he  had  settled  himself  for  good ;  how  he  had  never 
felt  exactly  ready  for  that  until  since  he  had  come 
to  Dukesborough  ;  and  how  —  and  how  —  and  how 
—  embarrassment  would  prevent  him  from  saying 
more.  But  whenever  he  got  to  this  point,  and  Miss 
Angeline's  heart  would  be  about  to  burst,  and  she 
would  be  getting  ready  to  cast  herself  upon  his 
faithful  bosom,  he  would  change  abruptly,  become 
frightened,  and  go  away,  and  stay  away  for  a  week. 
At  their  first  meeting  at  the  breakfast-table  after 
such  scenes.  Miss  Spouter  would  appear  quite  con- 
scious, hold  herself  yet  straighter,  and  endeavor  to 
show  that  she  had  spirit.  But  before  she  had  carried 
it  far  she  would  conclude  to  stop  where  she  was,  go 
back  and  begin  again. 


380  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

But  while  these  things  were  going  on  among  the 
Spouters,  what  had  become  of  the  Peas  ?  Whoever 
supposes  that  Miss  Georgiana  was  buried  in  the 
country,  dead  or  ahve,  is  simply  mistaken.  When 
she  heard  that  there  was  a  new  store  in  town 
she  wanted  to  see  it  ;  and  when  Uncle  Ben  heard 
that  it  was  kept  by  a  bachelor  he  was  determined 
that  he  should  see  his  daughter  ;  for  as  he  grew 
older,  his  anxiety  became  more  intense  for  Georgiana 
to  find  somebody,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  to  take  keer 
of  her  when  my  head  gits  cold."  He  begged  her 
several  times  to  go  before  she  was  ready. 

"  Georgy,  put  ovl  your  yaller  calliker,  and  go 
long. 

"  Pap,  do  wait  till  I  get  ready.  I  do  believe  you 
will  go  distracted." 

Georgiana  waited  until  she  got  ready,  and  when 
she  did  get  ready  she  went.  Her  plan  was  to  go 
and  spend  the  night  with  Miss  Spouter,  and  in  com- 
pany with  her  visit  the  new  store  the  next  morning. 

Some  persons  believe  in  presentiments,  and  some 
do  not.  I  hardly  know  what  to  think  of  such  things, 
and  have  never  yet  made  up  my  mind  whether  they 
are  reliable  or  not.  Sometimes  they  seem  to  fore- 
shadow coming  events,  and  sometimes  they  are 
clearly  at  fault.  I  have  occasionally  had  dreams, 
and  subsequent  events  were  in  such  exact  sequence 
with  them  that  I  have  been  inclined  to  accord  to 
them  much  of  the  importance  that  by  some  persons 
it  is  maintained  they  have.  Then  again,  the  dreams 
i  have  had  (for  I  have  always  been  a  dreamer)  have 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  38 1 

been  so  entirely  unreasonable,  nay,  absurd,  and  even 
ridiculous,  as  to  be  impossible  of  fulfillment.  For  in- 
stance, I  have  more  than  once  dreamed  that  I  was  a 
woman  ;  and  I  have  since  been  much  amused  by  the 
recollection  of  some  of  the  strange  things  that  I  did 
and  said  while  in  that  estate.  I  do  not  consider  this 
an  opportune  place  to  mention  them,  even  if  they 
were  worthy  of  mention  on  any  occasion,  and  I  al- 
lude to  them  for  the  purpose  of  saying  that  after 
such  dreams  I  have  been  disposed  to  reject  the 
whole  of  the  theory  of  dreams. 

But  all  this  is  neither  here  nor  there.  The  diver- 
gence from  my  stor}',  though  natural,  cannot  with 
propriety  be  farther  extended  ;  and  I  will  return  at 
once  to  my  two  heroines,  in  whose  deportment  will 
be  found  the  reason  why  such  divergence  was  made. 

No  sooner  had  Miss  Spouter  determiined  fully  in 
her  mind  that  she  would  catch  Mr.  Slack  if  she 
could  than  she  was  conscious  of  a  wavering  in  her 
friendship  for  Miss  Pea ;  for  she  felt  that  that  per- 
son was  destined  to  be  the  greatest,  if  not  the  only 
barrier  between  her  and  the  object  of  her  pursuit. 
She,  Miss  Spouter,  had  seen  him  first,  she  thought. 
She  had,  as  it  were,  found  him,  and  when  George 
was  not  even  looking  for  any  such  property.  George 
did  not  have  even  a  shadow  of  the  remotest  claim  to 
him.  It  was  wrong  and  unkind  in  George  to  inter- 
fere. She,  Miss  Spouter,  would  n't  have  treated  her 
so.  Now  all  this  was  before  Miss  Pea  had  ever  laid 
eyes  on  Mr.  Slack,  and  Miss  Spouter  knew  it.  That 
made  no  difference,  she  said  to  herself.  If  anything, 
it  made  it  worse.  She  was  hurt,  and  she  could  not 
help  it. 

Miss  Pea  might  have  had  a  presentiment  of  this 


382  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

state  of  things,  and  she  mii^^ht  not.  But  at  all 
events,  when  she  went  upon  her  visit  she  carried  a 
bucket  of  butter  as  a  present  to  Mrs.  Spouter.  It 
was  just  before  supper-time,  and  consequently  too 
late  for  her  to  return  that  evening.  If  it  had  not 
been,  as  she  afterwards  declared  upon  her  word  and 
honor,  she  would  have  done  so.  The  Spouters  were 
as  cold  as  ice.  Not  even  the  bucket  of  butter  could 
warm  Mrs.  Spouter  a  single  degree.  Strange  con- 
duct for  her  !  Miss  Angeline  at  first  thought  that 
she  would  not  go  in  to  the  supper  table.  But  then 
that  would  be  too  plain,  and  upon  reflection  she 
thought  she  preferred  to  be  there. 

Miss  Pea  and  Mr.  Slack,  of  course,  had  to  be  in- 
troduced. He  found  her  disposed  to  be  chatty. 
Miss  Spouter  looked  very  grave,  and  raised  her 
pocket  handkerchief  to  her  mouth  as  an  occasional 
provincialism  fell  from  the  lips  of  her  country  vis- 
itress,  while  her  dear  mother,  taking  the  cue,  would 
glance  slyly  at  Mr.  Slack  and  snicker. 

"  This  is  oncommon  good  butter,  Mrs.  Spouter," 
he  remarked  to  the  lady  of  the  house  ;  and  oh,  the 
quantities  of  butter  that  man  did  consume  ! 

Now,  it  was  from  Miss  Pea's  bucket ;  they  did  not 
like  to  confess  it,  but  they  had  it  to  do. 

"  Want'  know  !  Wal,  Miss  Pea's  mother  must  be 
a  noble  housekeeper." 

Mrs.  Pea  had  been  dead  several  years. 

"  Dew  tell !     You,  then  }  " 

Miss  Georgiana  would  have  told  a  lie  if  she  had 
not  acknowledged  that  it  was. 

Mr.  Slack  bestowed  a  look  of  intense  admiration 
upon  her,  which  made  Miss  Spouter  become  quite 
grave,  and  her  mother  somewhat  angry. 


DUKESBOROUGH   TALES.  383 

After  supper  the  gentleman  followed  the  ladies 
into  the  parlor.  Miss  Spouter  was  pensive,  and 
complained  of  headache.  Miss  Pea  did  not  believe 
she  had  it,  and  therefore  she  spoke  freely  of  her 
father's  plantation,  of  what  he  was  to  her  and  she  lo 
him,  and  of  how  he  was  always  urging  her  to  get  mar- 
ried, a  thing  which  she  had  made  up  her  mind  never 
do  to.  When  they  retired  for  the  night,  Miss  Spouter 
being  no  better,  but  rather  worse,  they  did  what 
they  had  never  done  in  their  lives  before,  whenever 
there  had  been  an  opportunity  of  doing  differently, 
—  they  slept  apart.  This  was  capping  the  climax, 
and  Miss  Pea  went  home  the  next  morning,  asking 
herself  many  times  on  the  way  if  friendship  was  any- 
thing but  a  name. 

It  seemed  to  be  a  sad  thing  that  these  young 
ladies  should  part.  Hand  in  hand  they  had  traveled 
the  broad  road  of  life,  and  never  jostled  each  other 
when  men  were  plentiful.  But  these  animals  had 
broken  from  them  like  so  many  wild  cattle,  some 
dodging  and  darting  between  them,  some  taking  to 
by-paths,  and  some  wildly  leaping  over  precipices, 
until  now  they  were  drawing  nigh  to  the  road  of 
young  womanhood,  and  there  was  but  one  left  for 
them  both.  If  they  could  have  divided  him  it  mi.2:ht 
have  been  well ;  but  he  was  indivisible.  The  fact 
is,  Mr.  Slack  ought  never  to  have  come  there,  or  he 
ought  to  have  brought  his  twin-brother  with  him. 

**  Wal,  where  's  your  friend }  "  he  inquired  at 
breakfast.  ' 

"  She  's  gone  to  look  after  what  she  calls  her  fa- 
ther's plantation,  I  reckon,"  answered  Mrs.  Spouter, 
sharply. 

"  Be  n't  her  father  got  no  plantation,  then  ?  '* 


384  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  He  's  got  a  little  bit  of  two  hundred  acres  of  tol- 
erble  poor  land.    That  's  all  the  plantation  he  's  got." 

"  Oh,  Ma  !  "  interceded  Miss  Angeline.  "  Georgi- 
ana  is  a  very  good  girl." 

"  She  may  be  good,  but  if  you  call  her  a  girl,  I 
don't  know  what  you  would  call  them  that  's  fifteen 
or  twenty  years  younger  ;  and  if  she  is  young,  that 
would  n't  make  her  daddy  rich." 

"Oh,  no!  But,  oh,  Ma!"  Miss  Spouter  persisted 
in  a  general  way,  for  she  seemed  to  think  that  this 
was  all  that  could  be  said  in  her  favor.  Upon  re- 
flection she  asked  Mr.  Slack  if  he  did  not  think  Miss 
Pea  had  a  good  figger.  Then  she  took  a  very  small 
sip  of  water,  wiped  her  mouth  carefully,  and  coughed 
slightly. 

''  Wal,  I  —  ah,"  began  Mr.  Slack,  but  Ma  laughed 
so  immoderately  that  he  laughed  too,  and  did  not 
finish  giving  his  opinion  in  words.  Alas  for  Miss 
Pea!  Big  as  she  was,  she  was  cut  all  to  pieces  and 
salted  away  by  Mrs.  Spouter,  while  Miss  Angeline 
could  only  look  a  little  reproachfully  now  and  then, 
.and  say,  '*  Oh,  Ma!" 

**  Two  hundred  acres,"  mused  Mr.  Slack  on  his 
bed  that  night.  ''  In  Maas'chewsetts  that  is  a  con- 
siderable farm  ;  other  property  in  proportion.  What 
would  it  bring  in  ready  money,  if  the  old  man  CI 
cal'late  he  's  old)  should  take  a  notion  tew  give  it 
up  Jieow  ?  Already  some  money.  He  brought  me 
a  watermelon  this  morning,  and  asked  me  to  go  out 
and  see  them  all.  I  'm  a  going.  Quick  work,  Adiel, 
—  quick  work." 

Mr.  Slack  was  a  hard  man  to  catch  ;  it  had  been 
tried   before,    and    had    failed.     Nevertheless,    Mrs. 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  385 

Spouter  and  Miss  Spouter,  about  six  weeks  later, 
actually  caught  him  in  the  act  of  coming  away  from 
Mr.  Pea's.  What  made  it  worse,  he  had  a  bunch  of 
pinks  in  his  hand.  The  next  time  Miss  Spouter  met 
Miss  Pea  she  did  not  speak  to  her.  She  only  shook 
her  curls,  and  said  to  herself  in  words  which  were 
audible,  "  Such  is  life  !  "  Georgiana  folded  her  hands 
over  her  bosom,  and  asked  if  friendship  was  any- 
thin  2:  but  a  name,  what  was  it } 

But  the  man  maintained  his  place  at  the  table,  to 
which  he  marched  with  unusual  confidence  and  good 
humor  at  the  first  meal  after  his  detection  ;  what  is 
more,  the  little  plates  maintained  their  places.  In 
spite  of  all  his  goings  to  the  Peas  and  his  returning 
with  bunches  of  pinks  in  his  hands,  his  deportment 
in  any  other  respect  had  not,  at  least  for  the  worst, 
changed.  Indeed,  he  looked  oftener  and  more  fondly 
at  the  curls.  Yes,  thought  Miss  Spouter,  he  may 
marry  her,  but  the  image  of  Angeline  Spouter  is  in 
his  breast,  and  it  will  stay  there  forever.  But  for 
her  entreaties  her  Ma  would  have  removed  the  little 
plates,  and  sent  him  back  to  the  other  end  of  the 
table,  where  he  came  from. 

**  I  'm  jest  the  woman  to  do  it,"  she  said.  ''That 
long-legged  Yankee  has  eat  more  than  his  worth  in 
butter  alone.  The  house  '11  break  or  be  eat  up,  it 
makes  no  difference  which,  and  nary  cent  of  money 
has  he  paid  yit.  Settle  hisself,  indeed  !  He  '11  never 
settle  his  nasty  self  except  whar  thar  's  money,  or 
everlastin'  butter,  and  he  not  to  pay  for  it  neither. 
And  I  '11  move  them  plates  to-morrow  mornin'.  If  I 
don't,  you  may  "  — 

"Oh,  Ma!  he  don't  love  her,  I  know  he  don't. 
Let  them  stay  a  while  longer." 
25 


386  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

And  the  next  morning  the  Httle  plates  would 
come  in,  take  their  places,  and  look  as  cheerful  as 
if  nothing  had  happened. 

Mr.  Slack  did  a  cash  business.  Time  rolled  on  ; 
the  faster  it  rolled  the  cheaper  he  sold.  His  stock 
dwindled,  and  everybody  asked  why  it  was  not  being 
replenished.  It  began  to  be  rumored  that  he  was 
going  to  buy  a  plantation  and  settle  himself.  The 
rumor  was  traced  to  Uncle  Ben  Pea.  Miss  Georgi- 
ana  was  asked  about  it,  and  became  confused. 

"  She  jest  as  well  a  give  it  up,"  said  Mr.  Bill  Will- 
iams, at  Mr.  Spouter's  table.  Mr.  Bill  was  gradually 
edging  up  towards  "  quality  eend,"  as  he  termed 
the  head.  *'In  fac,  she  did  give  it  up  farly.  I  axed 
her  a  plain  question;  she  couldn't  say  nothin',  and 
she  did  n't.  She  merrily  hung  her  head  upon  her 
bres,  and  she  seemed  monsous  comfortubble.  She 
ar  evidently  scogitatin'  on  the  blessed  joys  of  a 
futur  state." 

The  next  morning  the  little  plates  were  absent, 
and  Mr.  Slack,  without  seeming  to  notice  that  Mr. 
Bill  Williams  had  usurped  his  place,  took  his  seat  by 
Mr.  Spouter,  and  talked  with  him  in  the  manner  of 
a  man  who  had  been  on  a  journey  of  some  weeks, 
and  had  now  returned.  That  gentleman  did  not 
seem  to  be  at  all  congratulatory  on  the  occasion, 
but  immediately  after  breakfast  brought  within  view 
of  his  guest  an  account  for  three  months'  board. 
The  latter  looked  over  it  carefully,  remarked  that 
he  thought  it  was  correct,  begged  that  it  might  be 
considered  as  cash,  and  walked  away.  This  was  an 
eventful  day  to  Mr.  Slack  ;  for,  besides  the  aforemen- 
tioned incident,  he  sold  out  the  remainder  of  his 
stock  to   Messrs.  Bland  &  Jones,  went  without  his 


DUKESBOROUGII  TALES.  387 

dinner,  borrowed  a  gig  from  the  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  took  him  along  with  him  to  Mr.  Pea's,  where, 
at  three  o'clock,  p.  m.,  he  was  married  to  Miss  Geor- 
giana. 

**  Wretched  creature  !  "  exclaimed  Angeline,  the 
forsaken,  when  her  mother  informed  her  of  the  news 
at  night.  At  first  she  thought  she  would  faint;  but 
she  did  not.  She  retired  to  her  room,  undressed, 
looked  at  her  curls  in  the  glass  even  longer  than 
was  her  wont,  put  them  away  tenderly,  got  into  bed, 
apostrophized  property  and  the  other  sordid  things 
of  this  world,  and  went  to  sleep  with  this  thought 
upon  her  mind  :  "  Georgiana  Pea  may  be  by  his 
side  ;  but  the  image  of  Angeline  Spouter  is  in  his 
breast,  and  it  will  stay  there  forever." 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Are  we  not  one  ?  are  we  not  joined  by  Heaven  ?  " 

Fair  Penitent. 

Georgiana  was  married,  and  her  father  was  glad 
of  it.  It  was  what  he  had  wanted  long  to  see.  The 
danger  of  going  distracted  was  over.  He  was 
happy  ;  indeed,  jubilant.  For  the  truth  is,  he  had 
made  the  match.  He  and  Mr.  Slack  had  persuaded 
and  begged,  and  made  such  fair  promises,  that  she 
had  been  won  rather  against  her  judgment.  Uncle 
Ben  at  one  time  would  have  preferred  a  Southern 
man  ;  but  all  of  that  class  had  shown  such  a  want 
of  sense  to  appreciate  his  Georgy  that  he  persuaded 
himself  that  she  had  made  a  narrow  escape  in  not 
marrying  one  of  them.  Then  Mr.  Slack  had  come 
from  such  an  immense  distance,  and  knew  so  much, 
and  talked  so  much,  that  Uncle  Ben,  as  he  admitted, 


388  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

was  actually  proud  of  him.  He  maintained  upon 
the  day  of  the  marria^^e  that  Mas-sa-chic-setts  was  the 
biggest  word  in  the  English  language.  But  Georgi- 
ana,  who  was  as  honest  and  as  truthful  a  woman  as 
was  in  the  world,  insisted  that  her  "Pap"  went  too 
far,  or  rather  that  he  did  not  go  far  enough,  and  that 
Con-staii-ti-no-ple  was  a  bigger.  Uncle  Ben  did  n't 
like  to  have  to  give  it  up ;  but  when  he  found  out 
from  Mr.  Slack  that  the  place  bearing  that  name 
was  not  in  this  country,  and  not  even  in  America,  he 
and  Mr.  Slack  together  got  Georgy  so  badly,  and 
wound  her  up  so  completely,  that  —  oh,  how  they  all 
did  laugh  and  go  on  !  The  truth  is  that  Uncle  Ben 
was  rapidly  lapsing  into  a  state  where  he  could 
scarcely  be  considered  faithful  to  his  native  section. 
Yet  in  spite  of  all  this,  his  son-in-law  had  some 
ways  of  doing  and  talking  that  he  did  not  quite  un- 
derstand ;  but  he  trusted  that  they  would  wear  off. 
Georgy  now  had  a  husband  to  take  care  of  her  when 
his  head  got  cold  ;  by  which  he  meant  to  signify  the 
time  when  he  should  be  a  dead  man.  She  did  not 
seem  to  be  perfectly  happy,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
somewhat  ill  at  ease.  But  then  she  was  n't  any 
young  thing  to  let  getting  married  run  her  raving 
distracted.  He  liked  Mr.  Slack,  upon  the  whole  ; 
iie  suited  him  well  enough,  and  that  is  what  parents 
generally  care  most  for.  He  was  a  business  man, 
that 's  what  he  was.  He  talked  upon  business  even 
on  the  afternoon  of  his  marriage,  and  renewed  the 
subject  after  supper  and  the  next  morning.  One 
would  have  thought,  to  hear  him  talk  about  business, 
that  the  honeymoon  had  shone  out  and  gone  down 
long  ago.  It  did  not  look  exactly  right ;  but  now 
that  Mr.  Slack  was  a  married  man,  he  was  for  mak- 


•       DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  389 

ing  something.  \i  lie  owned  the  farm,  he  should  do 
this  thing  and  that  thing  ;  sell  this  piece  of  property 
and  convert  it  into  cash  ;  in  short,  he  should  sell  out 
the  whole  concern,  and  go  where  land  was  cheaper 
and  better.  If  it  were  left  to  him,  he  should  turn 
it  over  so  that  in  twelve  months  it  should  be  worth 
at  least  twice  as  much  as  it  was  now.  It  was  very 
clear  to  Uncle  Ben  that  his  son-in-law  was  a  busi- 
ness man.  Still  he  did  not  make  out  the  title-deeds. 
Notwithstanding  his  hints  to  that  effect  heretofore, 
he  had  never  entertained  the  slightest  notion  of 
oUch  a  thing.  When  Mr.  Slack  persisted  in  saying 
what  he  should  do  if  he  were  the  owner,  the  old  gen- 
tleman took  occasion  to  say,  but  in  a  somewhat  jo- 
cose way,  that  he  and  Georgy  would  have  to  wait  for 
that  until  his  head  got  cold ;  which,  he  said,  by  way 
of  consoling  for  the  disappointment,  would  n't  be 
much  longer.  Mr.  Slack  seemed  to  be  somewhat 
hurt,  but  he  merely  remarked  that  he  had  a  plenty 
to  live  on,  and  that  all  Jie  wanted  with  property  was 
for  Georgiana  to  enjoy  it.  He  had  money  enough 
to  buy  a  tract  of  land  adjoining  Mr.  Pea's,  and  two 
or  three  "fellows."  If  Georgiana  had  a  good  house- 
woman,  it  would  save  her  from  a  good  deal  of  work 
which  now,  since  she  was  his  wife,  he  would  rather 
she  did  n't  have  to  do  ;  but  —  ah  —  he  supposed  he 
should  have  to  wait  for  that. 

Yes,  but  he  need  n't  do  any  such  thing,  Mr.  Pea 
stoutly  maintained.  Those  being  Mr.  Slack's  inten- 
tions, the  'oman  should  be  bought.  The  money  was 
there  in  that  side-board  drawer  whenever  they  found 
one  to  suit  them.  He  should  buy  the  'oman  him- 
self. The  son-in-law's  countenance  brightened  a 
little.     He  might  have  to  go  to  Augusta  in  a  few 


390  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

days  ;  the  likeliest  gangs  were  there,  generally  ;  and 
it  might  suit  just  as  well  to  take  the  money  along 
with  him  and  buy  the  woman  there.  Georgiana 
did  n't  say  anything ;  but,  La  me  !  what  did  she 
know  about  business  ? 

Mr.  Slack  sent  into  the  village  every  day  for  the 
mail,  for  Dukesborough,  being  immediately  on  the 
great  line  of  travel,  had  its  daily  mail.  He  had 
been  married  just  two  days,  when  one  morning  a 
letter  was  brought  to  him  which  made  him  turn  a 
little  pale.  Upon  his  father-in-law's  inquiry  from 
whence  it  came,  he  answered,  after  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation, that  it  was  from  a  man  who  owed  him  some 
money,  and  who  had  written  to  say  that  if  he  would 
meet  him  the  next  day  in  Augusta  he  would  pay 
him  a  hundred  dollars  and  renew  the  note.  A  hun- 
dred dollars,  indeed  !  The  rascal  had  promised  to 
pay  half  the  note,  and  now  as  he  was  about  settling 
himself  he  was  to  be  put  off  with  a  hundred  dollars  ! 
He  had  a  good  mind  not  to  go,  and  would  not  but 
for  the  importance  of  having  the  note  renewed.  But 
could  he  get  there  in  time  }  How  was  that,  Mr. 
Pea  }  Why,  it  was  easy  enough  ;  the  stage  would 
pass  in  a  couple  of  hours,  and  as  it  traveled  all 
night  he  could  reach  Augusta  by  nine  o'clock  the 
next  morning.  Mr.  Slack  hesitated.  He  was  loath 
to  go  so  soon  after  being  married  ;  but  as  he  had 
expected  to  go  in  a  few  days,  anyhow,  he  guessed 
he  had  as  well  go  on  at  once,  especially  as  negroes 
seemed  to  be  rising  in  price,  and  it  was  important 
to  get  the  woman  as  soon  as  possible.  Certainly  ; 
business  was  business,  if  people  wei^e  married.  Mr. 
Slack  ought  to  go  at  once  ;  he  should,  if  it  was  him. 

Uncie  Ben   took  out  the  money,  and  Georgiana 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  39I 

ordered  lunch.  Mr.  Slack  had  so  often  complained 
of  the  old  gentleman's  time-piece  that  the  latter, 
upon  his  entreaties  to  be  allowed  to  take  it  with  him 
for  repairs  (at  no  expense  to  the  owner,  of  course), 
consented.  The  man  of  business  then  went  to  pack- 
ing his  trunk  and  satchel.  Although  he  was  to  stay 
but  three  days  at  furthest,  yet,  not  knowing  but  that 
he  might  need  them,  he  packed  in  all  his  clothes, 
looking  about  all  over  the  house  to  be  sure  that  he 
had  not  mislaid  anything. 

It  was  a  nice  lunch.  It  ought  to  have  been,  for  it 
took  a  long  time  in  getting  ready.  Mr.  Slack  was 
not  sure  that  he  was  going  to  get  his  supper,  and  he 
therefore  determined  to  put  away  enough  to  last 
him  to  the  end  of  his  journey.  He  had  barely  fin- 
ished when  the  servant,  who  had  been  stationed  to 
watch  for  the  stage,  announced  that  it  was  com- 
ing. He  bade  both  an  affectionate  adieu,  looked 
into  the  stage  to  see  if  there  was  any  person  in  it 
whom  he  knew,  did  n't  seem  to  be  disappointed  that 
there  was  not,  hopped  in,  and  off  he  went. 

Far  from  pining  on  account  of  the  absence  of  her 
mate,  Georgiana,  sensible  woman  that  she  was,  went 
about  her  work  as  cheerfully  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened. She  had  been  so  taken  up  with  Mr.  Slack 
that  several  small  domestic  matters  needed  to  be  put 
to  rights  again,  and  she  seemed  to  be  even  glad  of 
the  opportunity  to  look  after  them.  She  actually 
sang  at  her  work  ;  she  was  a  good  singer,  too.  The 
Peas  always  had  been  :  I  knew  the  family  well. 
Georgiana  was  n't  going  to  fret  herself  to  death  ; 
so  she  resumed  her  old  tasks  and  habits,  moved 
things  back  to  their  old  places,  and  in  every  respect 
did  as  if  she  had  forgotten  that  she  had  ever  been 
married. 


392  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Uncle  Ben  was  glad  to  see  her  in  such  gay  spirits. 
He  knew  what  it  was  all  for,  and  he  laughed  in- 
wardly and  became  gay  himself.  It  was  that  nigger 
*oman.  The  old  man  counted  the  days  and  nights. 
As  much  as  he  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Slack,  he  wanted 
yet  more  to  see  his  watch  ;  without  it  he  felt  like  a 
man  without  a  newly-amputated  leg  ;  but  he  would 
not  allow  it  to  trouble  him  very  much.  He  talked 
a  great  deal,  especially  at  meal  times,  about  his 
Georgy's  prospects,  joked  her  about  many  things, 
talked  of  the  prospects  again,  and  what  he  and  Mr. 
Slack  were  going  to  do  to  make  her  the  happiest 
woman  in  the  world.  Georgiana  never  suggested 
any  change  of  their  plans,  and  looked  as  if  she  in- 
tended to  be  but  clay  in  their  hands. 

Three  days  passed.  Mr.  Slack's  very  longest  time 
was  out.  The  stage  hove  in  view  ;  Mr.  Pea  was  at 
his  gate  ;  his  hat  was  in  his  hand. 

"  Good  mornin'.  Uncle  Ben,"  said  the  driver,  and 
was  passing  on. 

"  Hello  !  hello,  Thompson  ! "  shouted  the  old  man. 
Thompson  drew  up. 

*'  Hain't  you  got  Mr.  Slack  aboard  ? " 

"  No,  SIR  !  " 

"  Hain't  you  got  a  nigger  'oman  ?" 

"No,  sir." 

^'Whar's  Mr.  Slack?" 

*'I  don't  know." 

"  Hain't  you  seed  him  1 " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Hain't  you  heern  of  him  }  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Why,  what  upon  yearth  does  it  mean  }  '* 

"  Mr.  Slack  did  n't  go  to  nary  tavern,  but  got  off 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES. 


393 


at  a  privit  'ouse  way  up  town.  I  hain't  seed  him 
nor  heern  from  him  sence.  Was  he  to  get  back  to- 
night ? " 

"  Why,  yes,  certain  and  shore,  without  fail." 
"Well,  he  ain't  here,  certin.     Good  evenin'." 
"  He  hain't  come,  Georgy,"  said  Uncle  Ben,  as  he 
went  into  the  house. 
"  Has  n't  he  t  " 
"Why,  no,  he  hain't." 

"Well,  we  must  try  and  wait  till  he  does  come." 
Uncle  Ben  was  too  much  occupied  with  his  own 
disappointment  to  observe  the  equanimity  with 
which  Georgy  bore  hers.  It  was  now  bed-time  :  the 
daughter  went  to  her  room  ;  the  father  sat  up  at 
least  half  an  hour  longer  than  usual.  He  was  dis- 
appointed, certain  and  sure.  When  people  told 
people  they  were  coming  at  a  certain  time,  people 
wanted  'em  to  come  ;  especially  when  they  had 
people's  watches.  Oh,  how  he  had  missed  it !  If 
he  had  missed  it  by  day,  he  had  missed  it  as  much 
by  night.  It  used  to  hang  by  a  nail  over  his  bed, 
and  he  longed  for  the  gentle  lullaby  of  its  tickings. 
He  had  to  go  to  bed,  of  course,  but  he  lay  awake 
another  half  hour.  A  dreadful  thought  came  :  What 
if  Mr.  Slack,  after  all,  was  an  imposterer  !  Oh,  he 
could  n't  bear  it !  So  he  turned  over  and  went  to 
sleep  :  but  it  would  n't  stay  behind  ;  it  crawled  over 
and  came  close  to  him  in  his  sleep,  and  he  dreamed 
that  he  was  the  owner  of  a  jeweler's  shop,  and  that, 
while  he  had  no  power  to  move,  thieves  were  break- 
ing through  and  stealing. 

The  next  morning,  immediately  after  breakfast, 
Uncle  Ben  stood  at  his  gate.  He  had  a  notion  that 
Mr.   Slack  was    coming   in    a    private    conveyance 


394  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Sure  enough,  yonder  came  a  gig  with  a  man  in  it, 
and  a  horse  behind,  with  something  on  the  horse. 
Uncle  Ben's  eyes  were  dim,  and  he  could  n't  make 
it  out  ;  but  he  hoped  and  believed  that  it  was  a  nig- 
ger 'oman.  Vain  hope  and  vain  belief  !  The  gig 
carried  Mr.  Triplet,  the  sheriff,  and  the  horse  bore 
Mr.  Pucket,  a  young  lawyer  from  town.  Uncle  Ben 
had  no  business  with  them  ;  so  he  bade  them  a  good- 
morning  as  they  came  up,  and  again  turned  his  eyes 
up  the  road.  But  the  gentlemen  stopped,  and  in- 
quired if  Mr.  Slack  was  at  home.  No,  but  Mr.  Pea 
looked  for  him  every  instant.  He  had  been  gone  to 
Augusty  three  days,  and  was  to  a  been  back  last 
night,  but  he  did  n't. 

Mr.  Triplet  looked  upon  Mr.  Pucket  and  smiled. 
We  must  observe  that  a  new  election  had  come  on, 
and  Mr.  Triplet  had  beaten  Mr.  Sanks.  Mr,  Pucket 
looked  upon  Mr.  Triplet,  but  did  not  smile. 

"You  must  follow  him.." 

"  Them  must  some  foller  him  that  kin  run  faster 
than  I  kin,"  answered  Mr.  Triplet. 

"  Foller  who  .?  "  asked  Mr.  Pea. 

"Mr.  Slack." 

"  Why,  he  '11  be  here  to-night.  Or  I  '11  be  bound 
he  's  in  a  private  conveyance,  and  '11  be  here  this 
mornin'.  In  cose  he  's  comin'  back,  becase  he  's  got 
four  hundred  dollars  of  my  money  to  buy  a  nigger 
'oman  with,  and  my  watch  besides.  /;/  cose  he 's 
coming  back." 

Mr.  Triplet  looked  upon  Mr.  Pea  and  smiled  com- 
passionately. Mr.  Pea  looked  upon  Mr.  Triplet  and 
frowned  threateningly. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  Jim  Triplet  1  " 

"  The  matter  ar  that  you  won't  see  your  four  hun- 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES-  395 

dred  dollars  agin,  nor  your  watch,  nor  the  gentle- 
man what  carried  'em  off." 

"Why,  what  upon  yearth  is  you  talkin'  about  ?  " 

"  I  ar  talkin'  about  the  business  of  my  office, 
which  ar  to  arress  Mr.  Adiel  Slack,  or  Mr.  Elishay 
Lovejoy,  or  Mr.  Ephraim  Hamlin,  or  what  mout  be 
the  name  of  the  gentleman  that  carried  off  your 
four  hundred  dollars  and  your  watch." 

"  Don't  kick  before  you  're  spurred,  Triplet  ;  be- 
case  nobody  ain't  accused  him  of  takin'  the  money 
and  watch,  —  leastways  of  stealin'  it.  Mr.  Slack  is 
a  honest  man  and  my  son-in-law  ;  and  I  tell  you  he  '11 
be  back  to-night,  and  I  look  for  him  every  minnit  of 
the  day." 

"  So  much  the  better  for  us  if  he  do  come.  I  has 
not  come  to  arress  him  for  taking  of  the  money  and 
the  watch,  which  is  misdemeanors  that  I  did  n't 
know  tell  now.  But  he  is  charge  of  obtainin'  credit 
by  false  pretensions,  of  stealin'  divers  money,  of 
tradin'  w^ith  niggers,  and  finually,  with  marryin' 
three  wdmming,  and  not  waitin'  for  nary  one  of  'em 
to  die  fust." 

*'  Oh,  Lordy  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pea.  He  then  ap- 
proached the  sheriff,  and  in  a  tone  which  invited 
candor  and  confidence,  and  even  hinted  at  gratitude- 
said,  '*  Jeems  Triplet,  I  voted  for  you  :  you  know  I 
did  ;  I  always  has.     Ar  what  you  say  a  fac  ?  " 

"  I  know  you  did,  Uncle  Ben,  and  I  tell  you  the 
plain  truth,  —  it  ar  a  fac.  Thay  ain't  no  doubt  about 
it.     Mr.  Bucket  here  can  tell  you  all  about  it." 

Mr.  Pea,  without  waiting  to  hear  further,  turned 
and  got  into  the  house  as  fast  as  he  could.  He  went 
into  a  shed-room  with  uncommon  desperation  for  a 
man  of  his  years,  and  raised  his  hands  in  order  to 


396  ODDITIES  IiV  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

take  down  a  shot-gun  from  two  forks  on  which  it 
used  to  hang.  The  forks  were  there,  but  the  gun 
was  gone.  He  looked  at  the  forks  with  the  most 
resentful  astonishment,  and  with  a  voice  towering 
with  passion  asked  them  what  in  the  name  of  thun- 
der had  become  of  his  gun.  Not  receiving  any  an- 
swer, he  put  the  same  interrogatory  to  the  corner 
behind  the  door,  to  the  space  under  the  bed,  and 
even  to  two  small  glass  drawers,  after  opening  and 
shutting  them  with  great  violence.  He  then  ran 
back  to  the  front  door  and  questioned  the  whole  uni- 
verse on  the  subject. 

"  Robbed  !  robbed  ! ! "  roared  the  old  man.  "  Gen- 
tul-men,  ef  I  ain't  robbed "  —  Mr.  Pea  had  not 
"  cussed  "  before  (as  he  afterwards  declared  upon 
his  word  and  honor)  "  in  twenty  year." 

"  Georgy  !  Where  's  Georgy  .-*  "  It  just  now  oc- 
curred to  him  that  it  was  possible  Georgy  might  not 
like  the  state  of  things  herself. 

Georgiana  had  been  at  the  dairy,  superintending 
her  butter.  She  had  seen  the  men  as  they  came, 
had  gone  into  the  house  as  quietly  as  she  could,  and 
was  peeping  and  listening  through  the  window  of  her 
own  room. 

"  Pap,"  she  said,  not  loudly,  but  earnestly,  "  do 
come  here,  if  you  please." 

He  went  into  her  room. 

**  I  reckon  now  you  're  satisfied.  He  's  got  what 
he  came  here  for  ;  he 's  stole  from  you,  and  he 's 
stole  from  me ;  I  hain't  got  a  pocket-handkerchief  to 
my  name.  But  do,  for  goodness'  sake,  go  and  send 
them  men  away." 

"Oh,  Lordy !  "  reiterated  Mr.  Pea,  retiring.  "  Gen- 
tul-men,  it 's  no  use  :  we  are  cotcht ;  Georgy  and  me 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  397 

has  both  been  cotcht  —  I  acknowledge  the  corn  ; 
and  what  is  worser,  it  seem  that  I  am  the  cause  of 
it  all.  He  have  took  my  money  ;  he  have  took  my 
watch  ;  he  have  took  my  gun  ;  he  have  took  my  rum- 
beriller  ;  and  da-ing  his  low-life  skin,  he  have  even 
took  Georgy's  pocket-handkerchers.  It  seem  like 
he  jest  picked  me  and  Georgy  out  for  all  his  rascal- 
ities. And  to  think  that  I  should  be  'cused  of  it  all. 
I  did  want  her  to  marry.  It  look  like  a  pity  for  her 
not  to  git  married.  And  now  she  is  married,  and 
what  have  she  married  .'*  A  nasty,  dad-blasted, 
thievious  Yankee  ;  and  ain't  even  married  at  that ! 
She  is  married,  and  she  ain't  married  ;  and  she's  a 
orphlin  ;  and  she  's  a  widder ;  and  nobody  can't  tell 
what  she  ar  and  what  she  ain't  ;  and  I  don't  under- 
stand it  ;  and  Georgy's  name  will  go  down  to  pos- 
terity, and  the  Peas  won't  be  nobody  any  more  ;  and 
—  oh,  Lordy  !  " 

"  Pap,  do  for  goodness  gracious'  sake  hush,  and 
come  in  the  house  !  "  said  Georgiana,  advancing  to 
the  front  door.  "  The  Lord  knows,  I  'm  glad  I  ain't 
married  ;  and  if  them  other  women  don't  grieve  after 
him  any  more  than  /grieve  after  him,  they  've  done 
forgot  him,  that 's  all.     Pap,  do  come  in  the  house." 

Mr.  Pea  subsided,  and  the  men  rode  away.  Mr. 
Pucket  begged  Mr.  Triplet  to  hasten  ;  but  the  latter, 
who  was  too  old  to  be  running  for  nothing,  declared 
in  round  terms  that  he  'd  be  dinged  ef  he  did. 

"  I  would  n't  a  made  myself  ridicerlous.  Pap,  be- 
fore company,  if  I  'd  a  been  in  your  place.  That 
was  pretty  talk  to  have  before  men,  and  I  in  the 
house  hearin'  everv  word." 

Mr.  Pea,  hearing  himself  accused  of  a  new  crime, 
could  n't  stand  it. 


398  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  I  do  believ^e  that  if  old  Saton  was  to  come  it 
would  be  me  that  fotch  him,  or  leastways  sent  for 
him  ;  and  I  'd  leave  he  had  a  come  as  that  d-ad- 
blasted  Yankee.  Yes,  it 's  me  :  in  cose  it 's  me. 
Anything  wrong,  I  done  it  ;  oh,  yes,  in  cose  :  certing. 
Whar  's  my  hat  ?  "  And  the  good  man  sallied  forth 
to  his  field,  where  he  remained  until  dinner-time. 
There  were  so  many  contending  emotions  in  his 
breast  that  he  ate  in  silence,  Georgiana  had  a  good 
appetite  ;  she  ate  away  with  a  gusto,  and  eyed  her 
father  amusedly. 

"  Pap,  if  I  '11  tell  you  something,  will  you  swear 
you  '11  keep  it  .^" 

Uncle  Ben  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  and  gazed 
at  her  in  amazement. 

"  Wipe  your   mouth,   Pap,   and  tell  me   if  you  *11 


swear." 


"What  is  it }  "  he  demanded  authoritatively. 

"  Will  you  swear,  I  ask  you  }  " 

"  That 's  a  mighty  pooty  question  for  a  child  to 
ask  its  parrent." 

"Oh,  very  well."  And  she  helped  herself  again 
from  her  favorite  dish.  "  Won't  you  have  some 
more,  Pap } " 

"  Georgy,  what  does  you  mean  } " 

"  Will  you  swear  .'*  " 

"No,  I  won't." 

*'  Oh,  very  well,  then."  And  she  peppered  and 
salted. 

"  Well,  I  never  'spected  to  come  to  this  while  my 
head  was  hot.  My  own  child  :  that  I  've  raised  : 
and  raised  respectable  :  to  be  settin'  thar,  at  my 
own  table,  a  axin'  her  own  parrent  to  swar  :  jest  the 
same  as  ef  I  was  gwine  into  a  Free  Mason's  lodge  ; 
which  she  knows  I  don't  hold  with  no  sich." 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  399 

"  Pap,  I  've  heard  you  often  talking  against  the 
Free  Masons.  I  never  thought  they  were  so  mighty 
bad.     What  do  they  do  that  is  so  awful  bad  ?  " 

"  You  don't,  do  you  }  No,  I  suppose  you  don't  ; 
in  cose  you  don't :  takin'  arter  them  as  you  do  :  in 
cose  you  don't.  I  sposen  you  '11  be  a  jinin'  'em 
yourself  befo  long.  For  they  tells  me  they  takes  in 
wimming  too  ;  and  swars  them  ;  and  they  rips  and 
rears  round  jest  like  the  men,  and  car's  on  ginnilly. 
Oh,  no  :  in  cose  you  don't  :  takin'  arter  'em  as  you 
do." 

**  I  don't  know  what  I  might  do,  after  what  I  've 
done  already.     But  how  do  I  take  after  'em  }  " 

"  In  havin'  o'  secrets  that's  a  sin  to  keep  ;  and  in 
trying  to  make  people  swar  that  they  won't  tell  'em  ; 
and  not  even  to  their  own  parrents.  That 's  how 
you  are  takin'  arter  'em." 

'*  Oh,  yes,  I  see  now,"  she  said,  appearing  to  muse. 
**  Still,  this  is  something  that  I  could  n't  tell  without 
your  swearing  not  to  mention  to  a  blessed  soul.  It 's 
worth  swearin'  for,  Pap." 

The  old  man  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Ar  it  an}-thing  concernin'  that  mean  runaway 
Yankee  }  " 

"  If  it  is,  will  you  swear  }  " 

"  Yes,  I  WILL,  and  cuss,  too,  if  you  want  me. 
I  've  been  a  cussin'  to  myself  all  day,  anyhow." 

"You've  cursed  to  other  people  besides  yourself: 
but  I  onlv  want  vou  to  swear." 

She  brought  the  family  Bible, 

"La,  Georgy!  is  3'ou  in  yearnest,  sure  enough.? 
Why,  what  do  you  mean  }     You  ain't  no  Jestice." 

It  made  no  difference  ;  she  made  him  place  his 
hand  on  the  book  and  swear  that  he  w^ould  never 


400  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

reveal  what  she  was  going  to  tell  him  without  hei 
consent.  Uncle  Ben  was  very  solemn  while  the 
oath  was  being  administered.  It  required  several 
minutes  to  impart  the  secret.  When  it  was  over 
the  old  man's  joy  was  boundless.  He  jumped  up 
and  ran  into  his  own  room,  where  he  cut  up  more 
capers  than  any  one  could  have  believed  that  he 
could  cut  up  ;  he  ran  back  again,  made  Georgiana 
rise  from  the  table,  hugged  her,  and  made  her  sit 
down  again  ;  he  rushed  to  the  front  door  and  huz- 
zaed to  the  outer  world  ;  he  rushed  back  again  and 
hugged  Georgy  as  she  sat.  Then  he  took  his  seat 
again,  and  looked  upon  her  with  ineffable  admiration. 
Suddenly  he  grew  serious. 

"  Oh,  Georgy,  now  if  I  only  had  "  — 

Before  he  could  speak  further  she  had  taken  some- 
thing from  her  bosom,  and  handed  it  to  him.  He 
seized  it  with  both  hands,  gazed  at  it,  held  it  at  arm's 
length  and  gazed  at  it,  opened  and  looked  into  it, 
shut  it  up  again,  held  it  for  a  moment  to  his  ear, 
patted  it  gently,  laid  it  on  the  table,  then  lifted  up 
his  voice  and  wept. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  I  grant  I  am  a  woman." 

Julius  C^sar. 

When  the  news  of  Mr.  Slack's  escapade  reached 
Dukesborough,  there  was  running  to  and  fro.  Busi- 
ness was  suspended.  Some  asked  if  the  like  had 
ever  been  heard  of  ;  others  asked  everybody  if  they 
had  n't  told  him  so.  J.  Spouter  was  among  the 
former,  and  Mr.  Bill  Williams  among  the  latter.  He 
got  leave  of  absence  from  the  store,  in  order  to  roam 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  4OI 

up  and  down  all  the  forenoon  for  the  purpose  of 
proving  that  he  had  prophesied  what  had  taken 
place,  or  its  equivalent.  He  was  delighted  :  my 
observation  is  that  almost  everybody  is,  by  the  veri- 
fication of  a  prophecy  which  he  has  made,  or  which 
he  thinks  he  has  made.  Miss  Spouter  tried  to 
laugh,  but  she  did  n't  make  much  out  of  it.  Mrs. 
Spouter  did  n't  laugh  at  all.  How  could  she,  when 
she  remembered  the  plates  of  butter  that  had  been 
consumed,  not  only  without  thanks,  but  without  pay  .'* 
She  did  all  the  talking  in  the  domestic  circle.  Mr. 
Spouter  seemed  inclined  to  be  taciturn.  He  merely 
remarked  that  he  had  never  been  so  outed  in  his 
born  days,  and  then  shut  up.  But  then  Mr.  Spouter 
never  had  much  to  say  when  Mrs.  Spouter  had  the 
floor  ;  if,  however,  he  had  had  the  floor  now,  there 
was  nothing  for  him  to  say.  He  had  not  sued  his 
debtor,  but  for  reasons  other  than  the  being  a  merci- 
ful creditor.  He  was  not  used  to  such  things.  In- 
deed, the  very  word  suit  was,  and  had  long  been, 
disagreeable  to  his  ear  ;  so  much  so  that  he  had 
never  2:one  into  court  of  his  own  accord.  It  was 
one  of  his  boasts,  in  comparing  himself  with  some 
others,  that  he  had  never  been  plaintiff  in  an  action, 
and  never  expected  to  be.  He  always  discouraged 
people  from  going  to  law,  maintaining  that  people 
never  got  much  by  going  there  :  a  remark  that  was 
true  when  confined  in  its  application  to  those  who 
had  gone  there  carrying  him  with  them.  Yet  Mr. 
Spouter  seldom  lost  a  bill.  It  was  always  a  wonder 
to  me  how  rapidly  persons  in  his  condition  could 
collect  their  bills.  But  this  time  Mr.  Spouter,  as  he 
said,  was  "outed."  As  he  didn't  relish  Mr.  Bill 
Williams'  jokes,  and  as  Mrs.  Spouter  did  n't,  and  at 

26 


402  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

last  as  Miss  Spouter  did  n't,  Mr.  B.  W.  had  to  sus- 
pend. 

Poor  Mr.  Pucket  !  His  mind  had  been  set  upon  a 
fee  ;  but  as  no  one  could  be  found  who  could  run 
faster  than  Mr.  Triplet,  and  as  the  fugitive  had  three 
days'  start,  there  was  no  pursuit.  None  but  a  brief- 
less lawyer  can  imagine  how  badly  Mr.  Pucket  felt. 

*'  And  so  she  is  n't  married,  after  all !  "  said  Miss 
Spouter  to  herself,  when  she  was  alone  in  her  cham- 
ber that  night.  *' Not  married  after  all;  no  more 
than  I  am.  Yes,  I  suppose  more  than  I  am  ;  be- 
cause she  tJiought  she  was  married,  and  I  knew  I 
wasn't.  That  makes  some  difference  ;  and  then  — 
and  then  "  —  But  it  was  too  wonderful  for  Miss 
Spouter :  she  could  n't  make  it  out.  So  she  only 
said,  "  Oh,  I  wonder  how  she  feels  !  " 

Now  there  was  but  one  way  to  get  the  desired  in- 
formation, and  that  was  to  see  her  and  hear  it  from 
her  own  mouth.  To  most  persons  that  way  would 
seem  to  be  barred,  because  the  last  time  the  two 
ladies  met  Miss  Spouter  had  refused  to  speak.  But 
it  did  not  seem  so  to  her ;  she  would  herself  remove 
all  obstacles.  She  would  forgive  George  !  Yes, 
that  she  would.  Was  n't  it  noble  to  forgive  }  Did  n't 
the  Bible  teach  us  to  forgive  }  Yes,  she  would  for- 
give. What  a  glory  overspread  the  heart  of  the  in- 
jured when,  in  that  tender  moment,  she  found  she 
could  forgive.  She  wished  now  that  she  had  gone  to 
Georgiana  to-day  ;  she  would  go  to-morrow.  Malice 
should  never  have  an  abiding-place  in  that  heart.  It 
might  have  it  in  other  people's  hearts,  but  it  should 
never  have  it  in  that  one.  Never,  no  never,  while 
memory  remains.  She  laid  herself  calmly  and  sweetly 
upon  her   bed,  and  was  forcibly  reminded,  as  she 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  403 

thought  of  herself  and  her  conduct,  of  the  beauty  and 
the  serenity  of  a  summer's  evening. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

"  In  that  same  place  thou  hast  appointed  me. 
To-morrow  truly  will  I  meet  with  thee."' 

Midsummer-Night's  Dream. 

Mr.  Pea  writhed  and  chafed  under  his  oath.  He 
begged  his  Georgy  to  let  him  tell  somebody.  He 
swore  another  oath,  —  that  he  should  die  if  he  did 
n't.  He  did  tell  it  there  in  the  house  several  times 
to  imaginary  auditors,  after  looking  out  of  the  doors 
and  windows  to  see  if  no  real  ones  were  near.  Even 
when  he  was  out-of-doors,  he  went  all  about  whis- 
pering excitedly  to  himself,  occasionally  laughing 
most  tumultuously.      Georgiana  became  uneasy. 

"  Pap,  are  you  going  to  run  distracted  again  .? " 

"  Georgy,  ef  I  don't  believe  I  am,  I  '11  —  you  may 
kill  me  ! " 

Georgiana  had  to  yield.  She  wished  to  see  Mr. 
Spouter  upon  a  little  matter  of  business  connected 
with  Mr.  Slack,  and  she  concluded  to  consent  for 
him  to  be  sent  for,  and  her  father  to  inform  him  of 
what  she  saw  he  must  inevitably  tell  somebody.  The 
old  man  was  extremely  thankful,  but  he  wanted  to 
make  a  request. 

•'  Georgy,  you  must  let  me  send  for  Triplet.  I  've 
got  a  good  joke  on  Triplet,  a  powerful  joke  on  him. 
And  he  's  a  officer,  Georgy,  too,"  he  added,  seri- 
ously. "  Things  like  them,  when  they  ar  told,  ought 
to  be  told  befo  a  officer,  Georgy.  Triplet  is  a  offi- 
cer. This  case,  an  a  leetle  more,  an  it  would  a  ffot 
into  cote ;  an  as  Triplet  ar  a  officer,  he  ought  to  be 
here,  in  cose." 


404  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Georgiana  consented,  on  hearing  this  last  argu- 
ment.  But  she  expressly  enjoined  upon  her  father 
that  at  any  period  of  his  disclosures,  when  she  called 
upon  him  to  stop,  he  would  have  to  do  it.  He  prom- 
ised to  obey ;  and  the  servant  was  sent  into  Dukes- 
borough  with  the  request  that  Messrs.  Spouter  and 
Triplet  should  come  out  the  next  morning  on  par- 
ticular business.  Georgiana  knew  fully  what  she, 
who  was  her  friend,  but  now,  alas,  abandoned,  w^as 
thinking  about,  and  therefore  she  was  included  in 
the  summons. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  party  arrived.  Miss 
Spouter  alighted  in  great  agitation,  rushed  through 
the  front  room  into  Georgiana' s,  who  was  there 
Avaiting  for  what  she  knew  was  to  happen,  looked 
.all  around  as  if  she  was  expecting  to  find  somebody 
besides  Georgiana,  fell  upon  her  in  the  old  way, 
pronounced  her  pardon,  and  then  demanded  to  be 
told  all  about  it.  Oh,  my  !  Dreadful !  Did  ever  ! 
Vain  and  foolish  man  !      How  did  Georgiana  feel  } 

Georgiana  led  her  into  her  father's  room,  which 
■also  served  for  the  parlor.  She  w^as  surprised  and 
annoyed  to  find  Mr.  Pucket  there  with  the  other 
^gentlemen.  Mr.  Pucket  had.  somehow,  gotten  the 
wind  of  it,  and  said  to  himself  that  he  did  n't  know 
what  might  happen.  He  had  been  told  by  an  old 
lawyer  that  the  only  way  for  a  young  man  to  suc- 
ceed at  the  bar  was  to  push  himself  forward.  So  he 
determined  to  go,  and  he  went.  Uncle  Ben  was  glad 
of  it.  He  was  going,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to 
make  a  speech  ;  and  he  washed  as  large  an  audience 
tis  possible.  No,  no  ;  in  cose  there  wern't  no  in- 
trusion, and  no  nothin'  of  the  sort,  nor  nothin'  else. 

Georgiana  sat  very  near  her  father. 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  405 

Then  Uncle  Ben  opened  his  mouth,  and  be- 
gan :  — 

**  You  see,  gentul-men,  it  was  all  my  fault,  from 
the  fust.  After  Georgy  seed  him  she  did  n't  think 
much  of  him.  She  said  she  did  n't  keer  about  mar- 
ryin',  nohow,  and  ef  she  did  she  wanted  it  to  be  to  a 
Southering  man.  But  I  and  him  too,  we  overper- 
suaded  her.  He  seemed  to  think  so  much  of  me  and 
her  too  ;  and  he  had  a  store,  and  'peared  like  a  man 
well  to  do.  And  I  did  want  to  see  my  only  daughter 
settle  herself.  The  feelin'  is  nat'ral,  as  you  know 
yourself,  Mr.  Spouter  ;  all  parrents  that  has  daugh- 
ters has  'em  :  ain't  it  so,  Mr.  Spouter  }  " 

Mr.  Spouter  answered  rather  by  his  manner  than 
in  words.  IMiss  Spouter  became  confused,  and  did 
n't  look  at  Mr.  Bucket  when  he  coughed.  Mr.  Trip- 
let had  seen  something  of  life  in  his  time  :  still  he 
took  a  chew  of  tobacco. 

"  Go  on,  Bap,"  said  Georgiana. 

"  Yes.  Well,  you  see,  gentulmen,  sich  it  war  — 
anyhow  they  got  married.  Georgy  said  when  she 
gin  her  consent  she  gin  it  to  keep  me  from  runnin' 
distracted,  as  it  did  'pear  like  I  war.  Howbeever,  I 
ar  clean  out  o'  that  now.  Circumances  is  altered 
powerful.     Well,  as  I  said,  anyhow  thay  got  married 

—  that  is,  they  did  n't  git  married  ;  because  he  were 
already  married,  and  thay  warn't  no  law  for  it,  as 
you  know  yourself,  Mr.   Bucket,   thay  warn't.     But 

—  ah  —  leastways  they  went  throo  the  —  ah  —  the 
motions,  and  the  —  ah  —  gittin'  out  lisens,  and  the 

—  ah  —  stannin'  up  in  the  floor  and  jinin'  o'  hands  ; 
and  he  come  here  to  live.  Well,  now,  don't  you 
b'leeve  that  Georgy,  she  spishuned  him  from  the 
v^ery  fust  day  :  for  no  sooner  were  he  married,  hardly, 


406  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

than  he  begun  to  sarch  behind  every  nuke  and 
corner  about  here,  and  before  night,  bless  your  soul, 
he  knowed  more  about  whar  things  was  in  this 
house  than  I  did.  Leastways,  Georgy  says  so,  and 
it  's  obleeged  to  be  so  ;  for  there  's  things,  many  of 
'em  in  this  house,  that  I  don't  know  whar  they  are." 
And  Mr.  Pea  looked  around  and  above,  taking  as 
big  a  view  as  if  he  were  surveying  the  whole  uni- 
verse. 

"Well,  Georgy,  she  and  he  tuk  a  walk  that  fust 
evenin'.  Instid  of  talkin'  along  like  tother  folks 
that 's  jest  got  married,  he  went  right  straight  to 
talkin'  about  settlin'  hisself,  and  put  at  her  to  begin 
right  away  to  git  all  she  could  out'n  me  ;  which 
Georgy,  she  did  n't  like  no  sich,  and  nobody  would 
n't  a  liked  it  that  thought  anything  of  herself.  You 
would  n't,  Angeline  Spouter,  you  know  you  would 
n't,  the  very  fust  day  you  was  married." 

"  Go  on,  Pap,  please." 

*'  Yes.  Well,  Georgy  spishuned  him  again  at 
supper,  from  the  way  he  looked  at  the  spoons  on  the 
table ;  which  ef  they  had  a  been  the  ginuine  silver, 
they  would  n't  a  been  in  this  house  now,  to  my  opin- 
ion ;  probly  ;  leastways,  ef "  —  Uncle  Ben  smiled, 
and  concluded  to  postpone  the  balance  of  this  sen- 
tence. 

"  Well,  you  see,  Georgy  Ann,  arter  supper,  she 
got  sick,  she  did,  and  she  hilt  on  to  her  head  power- 
ful. In  cose,  bed-time,  hit  had  to  come  arter  a  while. 
When  hit  did  come,  she  were  wusser,  and  she  give 
that  feller  a  candle  to  go  long  to  bed.  When  Georgy 
goes  to  bed,  she  goes  on  throo  into  the  little  jinin' 
back  room,  and  she  locked  the  door  arter  her.  I 
never  knowed  one  word  o'  this  untel  arter  he  went 


DUKESBOROUGH   TALES.  407 

off.  Well,  arter  he  went  to  sleep,  Georgy  she  heerd 
a  mighty  groanin'.  So  she  ups,  she  does,  an  onlocks 
the  door,  and  creeps  in  ^mighty  sly.  It  seem  like 
he  were  dreamin'  and  talkin'  in  his  sleep  powerful. 
He  called  names,  sich  as  Jemimy,  Susan  Jane,  Betsy 
Ann,  and  —  what  was  all  them  names,  Georgy  } " 

"  It  makes  no  difference,  Pap  ;  go  on." 

"  And  a  heap  more  of  'em.  Georgy  can  tell  you, 
cose  she  heard  'em  over  and  ofting.  Well,  he  seemed 
to  be  powerful  shamed  of  all  of  'em,  and  he  swore 
he  w^ern't  married,  and  them  that  said  so  was  a  liar, 
and  all  sich.  Well,  sich  carrin'  on  made  Georgy 
b'leeve  that  he  was  a  married  man  befo,  and  had 
two  or  three  wives  already,  or  probable  four  or  five. 
And  so  Georgy  seed  rightaway  that  she  was  n't  no 
wife  o'  his'n,  and  didn't  have  no  intrust  in  no 
sich  a  d-evil.  And  she  war  right,  Triplet.  Triplet, 
war  n't  she  right  ?  " 

"  In  cose,"  answered  Mr.  Triplet. 

"  Do  go  on.  Pap." 

"Well,  yes.  Yit  still  she  didn't  let  on.  The 
kept  up  tolerble  well  in  the  day-time,  but  when  night 
come  agin,  Georgy  she  gits  sick  agin,  and  goes  into 
the  jinin'  little  room  agin.  I  never  seed  sich  carrin' 
on  befo." 

Uncle  Ben  had  to  stop  and  laugh  awhile.  Georgy 
begged  him  to  go  on. 

'*  Well,  she  kep  on  hearin'  him  a  goin'  on,  and 
you  think  she  would  tell  me  the  fust  thing  o'  all 
this.?  Ef  she  had  a  told  me —  Howbeever,  that  ain't 
neither  here  nor  than  Well,  it  seem  he  talked  in 
his  sleep  about  other  people  besides  wimming,  about 
men  and  about  money,  and  declared  on  his  soul  that 
he  never  stole  it,  which  goes  to  show  Georgy  that 


408  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

he  war  a  rogue,  as  well  as  a  rascal  about  wimming. 
Yit  in  this  time  he  begin  to  hint  even  around  me 
about  property,  and  even  jnsinivated  that  he  would 
like  to  have  the  whole  plantation  and  all  that 's  on 
it !  "  Mr.  Pea  showed  plainly  by  his  manner,  after 
making  this  last  remark,  that  no  man  had  ever  had 
an  ambition  more  boundless  than  the  late  Mr.  Slack. 
**  But  I  mighty  soon  give  him  to  understand  that  he 
war  barkin'  up  the  wrong  tree  ef  he  thought  I  was 
gwine  to  give  up  tJiis  plantation  and  my  property  be- 
fore my  head  got  cold.  Them  's  always  fools  that 
does  it.  Howbeever,  he  talked  so  much  about  settlin' 
hisself,  and  so  easy  and  good  about  Georgy,  and  how 
that  all  he  keered  about  property  was  for  her,  and  I 
knowed  that  was  all  /  keered  about  it  for,  that  I  told 
him  I  'd  pay  for  a  nigger  'oman  for  'em.  Well,  you 
see,  I  no  sooner  says  that  than  he  ups  with  a  lie 
about  havin'  to  go  to  Augusty.  But  shore  enuff, 
arter  he  had  been  here  two  days,  he  ]iad  to  go  too 
Augusty,  or  somewhar  else.  Becase  he  got  a  let- 
ter which  skeered  him  powerful,  and  he  said  he  war 
goin'  right  off.  I  did  n't  spishun  nothin'  agin  the 
man,  and  I  lets  him  have  the  money  to  buy  the 
nigger  'oman.  I  had  no  more  spishun  of  him, 
Jeems  Triplet,  than  I  have  of  you,  only  knowin'  that 
he  was  monstrous  fond  of  money,  which  is  all  right 
enough  ef  a  man  comes  by  it  honest.  Well,  Georgy 
she  was  tuk  back  tremenduous  by  his  gittin'  the 
money  so  all  on  a  sudding.  Yit  she  did  n't  let  on, 
but  makes  out  like  she  's  mighty  sorry  he  war  goin' 
so  soon,  but  mighty  glad  he  's  goin'  to  fetch  her  a 
nigger  'oman  when  he  come  back.  She  has  him  got 
a  mighty  good  snack  of  vittles  ;  and  what  ain't  com- 
mon for  dinner,  she  puts  on  the  table  a  plate  of  nice 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  409 

fresh  butter  and  a  plenty  of  biscuit,  Triplet."  Mr. 
Pea  now  looked  as  sly  and  as  good-humored  as  it 
was  possible  for  him  to  be.  *'  Triplet,  I  've  got  a 
good  joke  on  you." 

Mr.  Triplet  seemed  to  guess  what  it  was,  and 
smiled  subduedly. 

''  You  know  what  you  said  about  my  never  seein' 
certing  people  and  certing  things  —  certing  prop- 
erty no  more  V 

Mr.  Triplet  acknowledged  that  he  did. 

"  Well,  Triplet,  part  of  it  was  so,  and  part  of  it 
were  not  so  ;  all  which  both  is  jest  as  I  wants  it  to 
be.  Triplet,  that  butter  and  them  biscuit  is  what 
saved  me.  He  never  expected  to  eat  no  more  tell 
he  got  to  Augusty,  and  I  tell  you  he  hung  to  that 
butter  and  them  biscuit.  While  he  was  at  'em,  and 
Georgy  she  made  'em  late  a  comin'  in  a  purpose,  she 
takes  some  old  keys  which  she  had  picked  up,  and 
finds  one  that  could  onlock  his  peleese,  whar  she  seed 
him  put  the  money,  and  whar  she  knowed  he  kep  all 
he  had." 

Uncle  Ben  intended  to  laugh  mercilessly  at  Trip- 
let, but  he  was  stopped  by  the  sight  of  Mr.  Pucket, 
who  did  look  as  if  he  was  trying  to  swallow  some- 
thing that  was  too  big  for  his  throat. 

"■  Ar  anything  the  matter  with  you,  Mr.  Pucket  .^ 
Is  you  got  a  cold  }  Ar  your  thoat  so'  t  "  asked  the 
old  gentleman,  with  undisguised  interest. 

Triplet  snickered  as  Mr.  Pucket  denied  being  sick. 

Uncle  Ben  proceeded  :  — 

"So  she  jest  opened  it  sly  as  a  mice  and  tuk  out 
my  money  "  — 

"  And  what  else  }  "  eagerly  asked  Mr.  Pucket. 

"  My  watch,  that  the  villion  beg  me  to  let  him  take 


4IO  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

with  him  to  have  it  worked  on,  which  I  did  n't  like 
no"  — 

**  What  else  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Pucket  again. 

"That's  the  last  pint  I  'm  a  comin'  too, and  that's 
why  Georgy  sent  arter  Mr.  Spouter.  She  knowed 
that  he  owed  Mr.  Spouter  thirty  dollars,  and  she 
made  up  her  mind  to  pay  the  debt,  as  now  she  seed 
his  money,  and  she  tuk  out  thirty  dollars  o'  his 
money,  which  here  it  ar  for  you,  Mr.  Spouter." 

"  I  garnishee  the  thirty  dollars  !  "  interposed  Mr. 
Pucket,  holding  out  his  hands. 

"  You  are  too  late,"  answered  Mr.  Spouter,  taking' 
the  money,  putting  it  into  his  pocket,  and  looking  as 
if  he  had  gotten  in  again  after  being  outed  by  Mr. 
Slack. 

"  Can't  I  garnishee.  Triplet  1  " 

"  Garnishee  for  what  'I  " 

"  For  my  fee  t  " 

*'  Fee  for  what  ?  " 

*'  Why,  for  my  services  in  —  ah  — coming  out  here  ' 
on  two  occasions." 

"Well,  you  can't  garnishee." 

Mr.  Triplet  looked  as  if  he  was  ashamed  of  Mr. 
Pucket.  Uncle  Ben  hoped  there  was  goin'  to  be  no 
bad  feelins  and  no  difficulties. 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Mr.  Triplet.  "  Mr. 
Pucket  ar  a  young  lawyer,  and  forgot  at  the  minnit 
that  it  war  other  people  that  owed  him  for  his  ser- 
vices instid  of  Mr.  Slack.  Besides,  furthermo,  Mr. 
Pucket  ought  to  know  that  you  can't  garnishee  jest 
dry  so,  without  fust  gittin'  out  some  sort  o'  paper 
from  the  cote.  That  would  take  so  much  time  that 
Spouter  here  mout  spend  his  thirty  dollars  befo  he 
got  it  ;  that  is,  ef  Spouter  wanted  too."  Mr.  Triplet 
looked  interrogatively  at  the  other  gentleman. 


DUKESBOROUGH  TALES.  41 1 

"Yes,  ef  I  wanted  too,"  answered  Mr.  S.,  oracu- 
larly. 

"  But,"  persisted  Mr.  Pucket,  "  there  was  other 
moneys." 

"  VVhar  .? "  asked  Mr.  Triplet. 

"In  Mr.  Slack's  trunk." 

"  No,  thay  want,"  answered  Mr.  Pea,  who  thought 
he  ought  to  keep  Mr.  Pucket  to  the  true  word. 
**  They  was  in  his  peleese." 

"Well,  in  his  peleese.  That  makes  no  difference," 
and  Mr.  Pucket  looked  as  if  he  thought  he  had  them 
on  that  point. 

"  Pucket,"  said  Triplet,  "it  won't  make  no  differ- 
ence. You  are  right.  It  don't  make  nary  bit  o' 
difference  with  nobody,  ner  with  your  fee  neither. 
That  fee  ar  a  lost  ball.  Thay  ain't  no  money  here  to 
pay  it  with,  an  ef  there  was  it  would  be  Mr.  Slack's 
lawyer,  and  not  you,  that  would  git  it.  Well,  gin  it 
up,  and  another  time  try  to  have  better  luck." 

Mr.  Pucket  was  a  young  lawyer,  and  w^as,  in 
part,  owned  by  Mr.  Triplet.  So  he  subsided.  Uncle 
Ben  looked  troubled,  until  the  sheriff  assured  him 
that  there  could  be  no  difficulties.  "  Go  on,  Uncle 
Ben.     You  got  your  gun,  of  course  }  " 

"Triplet,  you  rascal  !  You  may  laugh  ;  but  I 
don't  want  the  gun.  He  may  keep  it,  and  do  what 
he  pleases  with  it,  even  to  blowin'  out  his  own  thiev- 
ious  brains  with  it,  for  what  I  keer.  He  's  welcome 
to  the  gun.     You,  Triplet  !  " 

"Don't  mind  me,  Uncle  Ben.     Go  on." 

"  Well,  thar  's  lots  more  to  tell,  ef  Georgy  would 
only  let  me ;  and  some  things  as  would  make  you 
3augh  powerful.  Triplet,  ef  you  was  to  hear  'em. 
But  she  's  made  me  swar,  actilly  swar,  that  I  won't 


412  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

tell  without  her  leave.  Maybe  she  '11  tell  your  ole 
'oman  some  o'  these  days.  Well,  I  felt  mighty  glad 
when  I  got  my  money  back,  and,  ef  anything,  a 
leetle  gladder  when  I  got  back  my  watch  agin. 
Triplet,  when  I  seed  her "  (and  the  old  man  drew 
out  a  watch  as  big  and  as  round  as  a  turnip),  "when 
I  seed  her  agin,  ef  I  did  n't  cry  you  may  kill  me. 
I  've  had  her  thirty  year,  and  none  o'  your  new- 
fangled ones  can  beat  her  runnin'  when  you  clean 
her  out  and  keep  her  sot  right  wnth  the  sun.  Ah, 
well,"  he  continued,  putting  it  back  and  shaking  his 
foot  in  mild  satisfaction,  "  the  thing  is  ovxr,  and  the 
best  of  it  all  ar  that  "  — 

"  Hush,  Pap,"  said  Georgiana,  raising  her  finger. 

The  old  man  smiled,  and  hushed. 

After  hearing  parts  of  the  story  over  several  times, 
the  party  rose  to  go.  Mr.  Triplet,  rising,  said  that 
in  cose  it  war  not  any  of  his  bisiness,  but  he  would 
like  to  ax  Miss  Georgy  one  question,  ef  he  would  n't 
be  considered  as  meddlin'  with  what  did  n't  belong 
to  him  ;  and  that  was,  why  she  did  n't  tell  on  the 
villion  as  soon  as  she  found  him  out.  Georgiana 
answered  :  — 

"  Well,  Mr.  Triplet,  I  many  times  thought  I  would  ; 
but  you  see  I  did  n't  know  for  certain  that  he  had 
done  all  the  things  that  I  was  afraid  he  had.  Be- 
sides, Mr.  Triplet,  even  if  he  was  n't  my  husband,  I 
one  time  thought  he  was,  and  before  God  and  man 
I  had  promised  to  be  faithful  to  him.  And  then  he 
had  stayed  in  this  house,  and  eat  at  our  table,  and 
—  and  called  Pap  father,  and  —  and  —  and  —  Wei-, 
Mr.  Triplet,  somehow  it  did  n't  look  right  for  me  to 
be  the  first  one  to  turn  against  him  ;  and  —  and 
when  I  did  think  of  telling  on  him,  something  would 
rise  up  and  tell  me  that  I  ought  not." 


DUKESBOROUGH   TALES.  413 

"Wimming  ain't  like  men,  nohow,  Uncle  Ben,"  said 
Triplet,  wiping  his  eye  as  he  bade  him  good-by. 

*'  No,  they  ain't.  Triplet,"  and  he  laid  his  hand 
fondly  on  his  daughter's  shoulder,  while  the  tears 
ran  down  his  cheeks. 

The  visitors  now  left,  all  except  Miss  Spouter. 
She  wished  to  get  behind  the  scenes  and  know  more. 
How  much  more  she  learned  I  cannot  say.  They 
went  to  bed  early  when  the  day  ended,  and  to  sleep 
late.  There  was  something  which  made  them  easily 
reunite.  It  was  pity.  Miss  Spouter  imagined  that 
she  pitied  her  friend  because  she  had  been  deceived 
by  a  man,  even  more  than  herself  had  ever  been, 
and  because  of  the  hurtful  influence  which  that  de 
ception  would  probably  exert  upon  any  future  ex- 
pectations of  marriage.  Miss  Pea,  who,  instead  of 
having  any  regrets,  felt  relief  in  the  thought  that 
henceforth  her  father  would  be  satisfied  to  allow  her 
to  manage  such  matters  for  herself,  and  that  she 
should  be  satisfied  to  have  none  to  manage,  really 
pitied  her  friend  because  she  yet  yearned  for  an  im- 
possible estate.  When  the  time  came  for  them  to 
go  to  sleep  (and  Georgiana  thought  it  long  coming), 
she  did  not  wait  a  moment.  Miss  Spouter  lay  awake 
some  time  further.  She  pondered  long  on  what  she 
had  heard.  It  was  strange.  It  was  almost  like  a 
novel.  How  could  George  be  still  the  same  Georgi- 
ana Pea  .?  She  had  been  Mrs.  Slack.  Was  n't  she 
Mrs.  Slack  now.?  And  how,  oh,  how  exciting  every- 
thing must  have  been  !  Her  thoughts  followed  Mr. 
Slack  a  while  ;  but  he  was  so  far  away  that  they 
came  back,  and  went  looking  after  Mr.  Bill  Williams. 
He  was  not  much,  but  he  was  something.  He  had 
never  exhibited  any  regard  for  her  yet,  but  it  was 


414  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

possible  that  he  would  some  day.  He  was  at  least 
ten  years  younger  than  herself.  But  her  curls  were 
the  same  as  ever  ;  and  besides,  were  not  marriages 
made  in  heaven  }  Or  were  they  not  a  lottery,  or  some- 
thing of  the  sort  }  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  after  all,  might 
be  the  very  one  to  whom  the  something  in  her  al- 
luded when  it  had  so  repeatedly  told  her  that  she 
was  destined  to  make  some  man  so  happy ;  who 
knows  }  Then  her  mind  turned  again,  and,  notwith- 
standing Mr.  Slack's  great  distance  ahead,  it  started 
forth  in  the  direction  he  had  taken.  She  dwelt  upon 
his  strange  conduct  and  his  running  away,  and  al- 
though it  was  plain  that  he  had  done  the  like  before, 
and  when  he  had  never  seen  her  nor  heard  of  her, 
yet  she  half  persuaded  herself  that  she  was  the  cause, 
though  the  perfectly  innocent  cause,  of  it  all.  *'  Yes, 
yes  !  "  she  was  saying  to  herself,  as  sleep  stole  upon 
her  at  last,  "  he  is  gone  ;  but  the  image  of  Angeline 
Spouter  is  in  his  breast,  and  it  will  stay  there  for- 
ever ! " 


SUT   LOVINGOOD. 


"  SuT  LoviXGOOD  "  belongs  to  a  class  which  is  but  little  known 
even  in  the  South.  The  gulf  between  him  and  Simon  Suggs  is  im- 
passable. He  is  no  relation  to  Major  Jones,  or  even  to  Ransy  Snif- 
fle. His  ilk  is  small,  his  base  of  operations  limited,  and  his  lingo  his 
own.  But  he  is  genuine.  In  spite  of  his  amazing  oddities  and  his 
audacious  flights  of  fancv,  he  was,  on  his  first  appearance,  recognized 

^—  •'4 

and  welcomed  as  native  and  to  the  manner  born. 

George  W.  Harris,  to  whom  "  Sut  "  owes  the  honor  of  paternity, 
was  a  quiet,  rather  sombre  gentleman,  who  lived  and  died  in  East 
Tennessee,  where  he  was  born  and  reared.  His  contributions  were 
originally  made  to  the  "Union  and  American,"  of  Nashville,  and 
thence  collected  in  a  volume,  issued  by  Dick  &  Fitzgerald.  His  hu- 
mor is  very  rough,  and  often  of  the  coarsest ;  but  it  is  full  of  comic 
situation,  plot,  and  phrasing. 

One  at  least  of  "  Sut's  "  adventures  has  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  do 
duty  in  one  of  the  acts  of  a  comedy  by  Sardou,  and  not  a  few  of  the 
conceits  and  oddities,  with  which  his  exploits  abound,  have  reap- 
peared in  our  domestic  dramas.  The  hero  himself,  however,  has 
never  been  attempted  on  the  stage.  He  is  a  little  too  lively  and  a 
little  too  uncouth,  perhaps,  for  presentation  in  proprid  persond.  Nev- 
ertheless, he  is  vastly  funny,  and  in  the  hands  of  an  American  actor 
—  such,  for  example,  as  Mr.  Toole  is  to  the  comic  life  of  London  — 
would  certainly  prove  effective. 

There  is,  as  will  be  observed,  as  little  attempt  at  technical  literary 
finish,  either  in  description  or  proportion,  in  "  Sut  Lovingood  "  as  in 
the  rest  of  the  sketches  of  which  it  is  an  example  ;  the  author  seem- 
ing to  aim  merely  at  his  point,  and,  this  reached,  to  be  satisfied  to 
leave  it  to  work  out  its  own  moral  and  effect. 


I. 

HOW   DADDY    PLAYED    HOSS. 

"  Hole  that  ar  hoss  down  tu  the  yeath."     "  He  's 
9.  fixin'  fur  the  heavings."     "  He  's  a  spreadin'  his 


41 6  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHER  A-  LIFE. 

tail  feathers  tu  fly.  Look  out,  Laigs,  if  you  ain't 
ready  tu  go  up'ards."  "Wo,  Shavetail."  "Git  a 
fiddil  ;  he's  tryin'  a  jig."  **  Say,  Long  Laigs,  rais'd 
a  power  ove  co'n,  did  n't  yu  }  "  "  'T  ain't  co'n,  hits 
redpepper." 

These  and  like  expressions  were  addressed  to  a 
queer-looking,  long-legged,  short-bodied,  small-head- 
ed, white-haired,  hog-eyed,  funny  sort  of  a  genius, 
fresh  from  some  bench-legged  Jew's  clothing  store, 
mounted  on  "  Tearpoke,"  a  nick-tailed,  bow-necked, 
long,  poor,  pale  sorrel  horse,  half  dandy,  half  devil, 
and  enveloped  in  a  perfect  net-work  of  bridle,  reins, 
crupper,  martingales,  straps,  surcingles,  and  red  fer- 
reting, who  reined  up  in  front  of  Pat  Nash's  gro- 
cery, among  a  crowd  of  mountaineers,  full  of  fun, 
foolery,  and  whisky. 

This  was  SuT  Lovingood. 

**  I  say,  you  darn'd  ash  cats,  jis  keep  yer  shuts  on, 
will  ye  ?  You  never  seed  a  rale  boss  till  I  rid  up  ; 
you's  p'raps  stole  ur  owned  shod  rabbits  ur  sheep 
wif  borrerd  saddils  on,  but  when  you  tuck  the  fus 
begrudgin'  look  jis  now  at  this  critter,  name  Tar- 
poke,  yu  wer  injoyin'  a  sight  ove  nex'  tu  the  bes' 
hoss  what  ever  shell'd  nubbins  ur  toted  jugs,  an' 
he  's  es  ded  es  a  still  wum,  poor  ole  Tickytail  ! 

"  Wo  !  wo !  Tarpoke,  yu  cussed  infunel  fidgety 
hide  full  ove  fire,  can't  yu  stan'  still  an'  listen  while 
I'se  a  polishin'  yer  karacter  off  es  a  mortul  hoss  tu 
these  yere  durned  fools  ?" 

Sut's  tongue  or  his  spurs  brought  Tearpoke  into 
something  like  passable  quietude,  while  he  con- 
tinued :  — 

**  Say  yu,  sum  ove  yu  growin'  hogs  made  a  re-mark 
jis    now  'bout  redpepper.     I  jis   wish  tu  say  in  a 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  417 

gineral  way  that  eny  wurds  cupplin'  redpepper  an 
Tarpoke  tugether  am  durn'd  infurnal  lies." 

*'  What  killed  Tickeytail,  Sut  ?  "  asked  an  anxious 
inquirer  after  truth. 

"  Why,  nuffin,  you  cussed  fool  ;  he  jis  died  so, 
standin'  up  et  that.  War  n't  that  rale  casteel  hoss 
pluck  }  Yu  see,  he  froze  stiff ;  no,  not  that  adzactly, 
but  starv'd  fust,  an'  froze  arterards,  so  stiff  that  when 
dad  an'  me  went  tu  lay  him  out,  an'  we  push'd  him 
over,  he  stuck  out  jis  "  so  "  (spreading  his  arms  and 
legs),  belike  ontu  a  carpenter's  bainch,  an'  we  hed  tu 
wait  ni  ontu  seventeen  days  fur  'im  tu  thaw  afore 
we  cud  skin  'im." 

"  Skin  'im  1 "  interrupted  a  rat-faced  youth,  whit- 
tling on  a  corn-stalk.  '■'  I  thot  yu  wanted  tu  lay  the 
hoss  out." 

*'  The ,  yu  did  !      Ain't  skinin'  the  natral  way 

OA^e  layin'  out  a  hoss,  I  'd  like  tu  no }  See  a  yere, 
soney,  yu  tell  yer  mam  tu  hev  yu  sot  back  jis  'bout 
two  years,  fur  et  the  rate  yu'se  a  climbin'  yu  Stan's 
a  pow'ful  chance  tu  die  wif  yer  shoes  on,  an'  git  laid 
hoss  way,  yu  dus." 

The  rat-faced  youth  shut  up  his  knife  and  sub- 
sided. 

"  Well,  thar  we  wer — dad,  an'  me  "  (counting  on 
his  fingers),  "an  Sail,  an'  Jake  (fool  Jake  we  calls  'im, 
fur  short),  an'  Jim,  an'  Phineass,  an'  Callimy  Jane, 
an'  Sharlottyann,  an'  me,  an'  Zodiack,  an'  Cashus 
Clay,  an'  Noah  Webster,  an'  the  twin  gals  (Castur 
and  Pollox),  an'  me,  an'  Catherin  Second,  an'  Cleo- 
patry  Antony,  an'  Jane  Barnum  Lind,  an'  me,  an' 
Benton  Bullion,  an'  the  baby  what  hain't  nam'd  yet, 
an'  me,  an'  the  Prospect,  an'  mam  hersef — all  lef  in 
the  woods  alone,  wifout  ara  hoss  tu  crup  wif." 

27 


41 8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Yu'se  counted  yersef  five  times,  Mister  Lovin- 
good,"  said  a  tomato-nosed  man  in  ragged  over- 
coat. 

**  Yas,  ole  Still-tub,  that 's  jis  the  perporshun  I 
bears  in  the  famerly  fur  dam  fool,  leavin'  out  Dad,  in 
course.  Yu  jis  let  me  alone,  an'  be  a  thinkin'  ove 
gittin'  more  hoops  ontu  yu.  Yus  leakin'  now  ;  see 
thar."  Ha  !  ha  !  from  the  crowd,  and  "  Still-tub  " 
went  into  the  doggery. 

"  Warn't  that  a  devil's  own  mess  ove  broth  fur  a 
'spectabil  white  famerly  tu  be  sloshin'  about  in  }  I 
durned  ef  I  did  n't  feel  sorter  like  stealin'  a  boss 
sumtimes,  an'  I  speck  I  'd  a  dun  hit,  but  the  stealin' 
streak  in  the  Lovingoods  all  run  tu  durned  fool,  an' 
the  onvartus  streak  all  run  tu  laigs.  Jis  look  down 
the  side  ove  this  yere  boss  mos'  tu  the  groun'.  Dus 
yu  see  em  } 

"  Well,  we  waited,  an'  wished,  an'  rested,  an' 
plan'd,  an'  wished,  an'  waited  agin,  ontil  ni  ontu 
strawberry  time,  hopin'  sum  stray  boss  mout  cum 
along ;  but  dorg  my  cats,  ef  eny  sich  good  luck  ever 
cums  wifin  reach  ove  whar  dad  is,  he's  so  dod-dratted 
mean,  an'  lazy,  an'  ugly,  an'  savidge,  an'  durn  fool 
tu  kill. 

"  Well,  one  nite  he  lay  awake  till  cock-crowin 
a-snortin',  an'  rollin',  an'  blowin',  an'  shufflin',  an 
scratchin'  hissef,  an'  a  whisperin'  at  mam  a  heap,  an 
at  breckfus'  I  foun'  out  what  hit  ment.  Says  he 
*  Sut,  I  '11  tell  yu  what  we  '11  du  :  I  '11  be  boss  mysef, 
an'  pull  the  plow  whilst  yu  drives  me,  an'  then  th"- 
•*01e  Quilt"  (he  ment  that  fur  mam)  an'  the  brats 
kin  plant,  an'  tend,  ur  jis  let  hit  alone,  es  they  darn 
pleze  ;  I  ain't  a  carein'.' 

"  So  out  we  went  tu  the  pawpaw  thicket,  an'  peel'd 


SUT  LOVING 00 D.  419 

a  rite  smart  chance  ove  bark,  an'  mam  an*  me  made 
geers  fur  dad,  while  he  sot  on  the  fence  a-lookin'  at 
us,  an'  a  studyin'  pow'rful.  I  arterards  foun'  out,  he 
wer  a-studyin'  how  tu  play  the  kar-acter  ove  a  hoss 
puffectly. 

"  Well,  the  geers  becum  him  mitily,  an'  nuffin  wud 
du  *im  but  he  mus  hev  a  bridil  ;  so  I  gits  a  umereller 
brace  —  hit 's  a  litil  forked  piece  ove  squar  wire  bout 
a  foot  long,  like  a  yang  pitch-fork,  yu  no  —  an' 
twisted  hit  sorter  intu  a  bridil  bit  snaffil  shape. 
Dad  wanted  hit  made  kurb,  es  he  hed  n't  work'd  fur 
a  good  while,  an'  said  he  mout  sorter  feel  his  keepin' 
an'  go  tu  ravin'  an'  cavortin'. 

"  When  we  got  the  bridil  fix'd  ontu  dad,  don't  yu 
bleve  he  sot  in  tu  chompin  hit  jis  like  a  rale  hoss, 
an'  tried  tu  bite  me  on  the  arm  (he  allers  wer  a  mos' 
complikated  durned  ole  fool,  an'  mam  sed  so  when 
he  warnt  about).  I  put  on  the  geers,  an'  while  mam 
wer  a-tyin'  the  belly-ban',  a-strainin'  hit  pow'rful  tite, 
he  drapt  ontu  his  bans,  sed  '  Whay-a-a'  like  a  mad 
hoss  wud.  I  shoulder'd  the  gopher  plow,  an'  tuck 
hole  ove  the  bridil.  Dad  leaned  back  sulky,  till  I 
sed  cluck  cluck  wif  my  tounge,  then  he  started. 
When  we  cum  tu  the  fence  I  let  down  the  gap,  an' 
hit  made  dad  mad  ;  he  wanted  tu  jump  hit  on  all 
fours,  hoss  way.  Oh,  geminy  !  what  a  durn'd  ole 
fool  kin  cum  tu  ef  he  gins  up  tu  the  complaint. 

"  I  hitch'd  'im  tu  the  gopher,  a-watchin'  him  pow'- 
ful  clost,  fur  I  'd  see  how  quick  he  cud  drap  ontu  his 
bans,  an'  kick,  an'  away  we  went,  dad  leanin'  forard 
tu  his  pullin',  an'  we  made  rite  peart  plowin'  fur  tu 
hev  a  green  hoss,  an'  bark  gears  ;  he  went  over  the 
sprowts  an*  bushes  same  as  a  rale  hoss,  only  he  trav- 
eled on  two  laigs.     I   mitily  hope  up  bout  co'n ;  I 


420  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

cud  a'mos'  see  hit  a  cumin'  up  ;  but  thar  's  a  heap 
ove  whisky  spilt  tvvixt  the  counter  an'  the  mouf,  ef 
hit  ain't  got  "but  two  foot  tu  travih  'Bout  the  time 
he  wer  beginin'  tu  break  sweat,  we  cum  tu  a  sassa- 
frack  bush,  an'  tu  keep  up  his  kar-acter  es  a  boss  he 
buljed  squar  intu  an'  thru  hit,  tarin'  down  a  ball 
ho'nets  nes'  ni  ontu  es  big  es  a  boss's  bed,  an'  the 
hole  tribe  kiver'd  'im  es  quick  es  yu  cud  kiver  a 
sick  pup  wif  a  saddil  blanket.  He  lit  ontu  his  bans 
agin,  an'  kick'd  strait  up  onst,  then  he  rar'd,  an' 
fotch  a  squeal  wus  nur  ara  stud  boss  in  the  State, 
an'  sot  in  tu  strait  runnin'  away  jis  es  natral  es  yu 
ever  seed  any  uther  skeer'd  boss  du.  I  let  go  the 
line  an'  holler'd,  Wo  !  dad,  wo  !  but  yu  mout  jis  es 
well  say  Woa !  tu  a  locomotum,  ur  Suke  cow  tu  a 
gal. 

"  Gewhillitins  !  how  he  run !  When  he  cum  tu 
bushes,  he  'd  clar  the  top  ove  em  wif  a  squeal,  gopher 
an'  all.  P'raps  he  tho't  thar  mout  be  anuther  set- 
tilment  ove  ball  ho'nets  thar,  an'  hit  wer  safer  tu  go 
over  than  thru,  an'  quicker  dun  eny  how.  Every 
now  an'  then  he  'd  fan  the  side  ove  his  bed,  fust  wif 
wun  fore  laig  an'  then  tuther  ;  then  he  'd  gin  hissef 
a  roun-handed  slap  what  soundid  like  a  waggin' 
whip  ontu  the  place  whar  the  breechbands  tetches 
a  boss,  a-runnin'  all  the  time,  an'  a-kerrin'  that  ar 
gopher  jis  'bout  as  fas'  an  es  hi  frum  theyeath  es  ever 
eny  gopher  wer  kerried,  I  '11  swar.  When  he  cum  tu 
the  fence,  he  jis  tore  thru  hit,  bustin'  an'  scatterin* 
ni  ontu  seven  panils  wif  lots  ove  broken  rails.  Rite 
yere  he  lef  the  gopher,  geers,  close,  clevis,  an' 
swingltress,  all  mix'd  up,  an'  not  wuf  a  durn.  The 
balance  on  em,  ni  ontu  a  gallun,  kep'  on  wif  dad. 
He  seem'd  tu  run  jis  adzactly  es  las'  es  a  ho'net  cud 


SUT  LOVINGOOD,  42 1 

fly ;  hit  wer  the  titest  race  I  ever  seed,  fur  wun  hoss 
tu  git  all  the  whipin'.  Down  thru  a  saige  field  they 
all  went,  the  ho'nets  makin'  hit  look  like  thar  wer 
smoke  roun'  dad's  bald  hed,  an'  he  wif  nuffin  on  the 
green  yeath  in  the  way  ove  close  bout  ima,  but  the 
bridil,  an'  ni  ontu  a  yard  ove  plow  line  sailin'  be- 
hine,  wif  a  tir'd  out  ho'net  ridin'  on  the  pint  ove  hit. 
I  seed  that  he  wer  aimin*  fur  the  swimin'  hole  in  the 
krick,  whar  the  bluff  am  over-twenty  five  foot  pupen- 
diculer  tu  the  warter,  an'  hits  ni  ontu  ten  foot  deep. 

"Well,  tu  keep  up  his  karacter  es  a  hoss,  plum 
thru,  when  he  got  tu  the  bluff  he  loped  off,  ur  rather 
jis  kep  on  a  runnin'.  Kerslunge  intu  the  krick  he 
went.  I  seed  the  warter  fly  plum  abuv  the  bluff 
from  whar  I  wer. 

"  Now  rite  thar,  boys,  he  over-did  the  thing,  e£ 
actin'  hoss  tu  the  scribe  wer  what  he  wer  arter  ; 
fur  thars  nara  hoss  ever  foaldid  durned  fool  enuf  tu 
lope  over  eny  sich  place  ;  a  cussed  muel  mout  a  dun 
hit,  but  dad  warn't  actin'  muel,  tho'  he  orter  tuck 
that  karacter  ;  hits  adzactly  sooted  tu  his  dispersi- 
tion.  I  crept  up  tu  the  aidge,  an'  peep'd  over.  Thar 
wer  dad's  bald  hed,  fur  all  the  yeath  like  a  peeled 
inyin,  a  bobbin'  up  an'  down  an'  aroun',  an'  the 
ho'nets  sailin'  roun'  tuckey  buzzard  fashun,  an' 
every  onst  in  a  while  one,  an'  sumtimes  ten,  wud 
take  a  dip  at  dad's  bald  head.  He  kep'  up  a  rite 
peart  dodgin'  onder,  sumtimes  afore  they  hit  im, 
an'  sumtimes  arterard,  an  the  warter  wer  kivered 
wif  drownded  ball  ho'nets.  Tu  look  at  hit  frum 
the  top  ove  the  bluff,  hit  wer  pow'ful  inturestin', 
an'  sorter  funny ;  I  wer  on  the  bluff  myse'f,  mine 
yu. 

"  Dad  cudent  see   the  funny  part  frum  whar  he 


422  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

war,  but  hit  seem'd  tu  be  inturestin'  tu  him  frurn 
the  'tenshun  he  wer  payin'  tu  the  bisness  ove  div- 
in'  an'  cussin'. 

"  Sez  I,  *  Dad,  ef  yu's  dun  washin'  yersef,  he  hes 
drunk  enuff,  less  go  back  tu  our  plovvin',  hit  will 
soon  be  powerful  hot.'  *  Hot  —  hell!'  sez  dad; 
'hit  am  hot  rite  now.  Don't  (an  onder  went  his 
hed)  yer  see  (dip)  these  cussed  (dip)  infun  —  (dip) 
varmints  arter  me.?'  (dip.)  'What,'  sez  I,  '  them 
ar  boss  flies  thar,  that  's  nat'ral,  dad  ;  you  ain't 
raley  fear'd  ove  them  is  yu  .'' '  '  Hoss  flies  !  h —  I  an 
(dip)  durnation  !  '  sez  dad,  '  theyse  rale  ginni  — 
(dip)  ball  ho'nets,  (dip)  yu  infunel  ignurant  cuss!' 
(dip.)  *  Kick  em  —  paw  em  —  switch  em  w4f'  yure 
tail,  dad,'  sez  I.  '  Oh  !  soney,  soney,  (dip)  how  I  '11 
sweeten  yure  — ■  (dip)  when  these  (dip)  ho'nets  leave 
yere.'  '  Yu'd  better  du  the  levin'  yursef  dad,'  sez  I. 
•Leave  yere  I  How  (dip)  kin  I,  (dip)  when  they  won't 
(dip)  let  me  stay  (dip)  atop  (dip)  the  warter  even.' 

*  Well,  dad,  yu'l  hev  tu  stay  thar  till  nite,  an'  arter 
they  goes  tu  roos'  yu  cum  home.  I  '11  hev  yer  feed 
in  the  troft  redy ;  yu  won't  need  eny  curyin'  tu-nite 
will  yu  }'  'I  wish  (dip)  I  may  never  (dip)  see  to- 
morrer,  ef  I  (dip)  don't  make  (dip)  hame  strings  (dip) 
outer  yure  hide  (dip)  when  I  dus  (dip)  git  outen 
yere,'  sez  dad.  'Better  say  yu  wish  yu  may  never 
see  anuther  ball  ho'net,  ef  yu  ever  play  hoss  agin', 
sez  I. 

"Them  words  toch  dad  tu  the  hart,  an'  I  felt  they 
mus'  be  my  las,  knowin'  dad  's  onmollified  nater.  I 
broke  frum  them  parts,  an'  sorter  cum  over  yere 
tu    the   copper  mines.     When  I  got   tu  the   hous', 

*  Whar  's  yer  dad  "i '  sez  mam.  '  Oh,  he  turn'd  durn 
fool,  an'  run  away,  busted  every  thing  all  tu  cussed 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  423 

smash,  an  's  in  the  swimin'  hole  a  divin'  arter  min- 
ners.  Look  out  mam,  he  '11  cum  home  wif  a  angel's 
temper  ;  better  sen'  fur  sum  strong  man  body  tu 
keep  him  frum  huggin'  yu  tu  deth."  '  Law  sakes  ! ' 
sez  mamx  ;  '  I  know'd  he  cudent  act  boss  fur  ten 
minutes  wifout  actin'  infunel  fool,  tu  save  his  life.' 

"I  staid  hid  out  ontil  nex'  arternoon,  an'  I  seed  a 
feller  a-travelin'.  Sez  I,  '  How  de  do,  mister  ?  What 
wer  agwine  on  at  the  cabin,  this  side  the  crick, 
when  yu  pass'd  thar  ? '  '  Oh,  nuthin'  much,  only  a 
pow'ful  fat  man  wer  a  lyin'  in  the  yard  wif  no  shut 
on,  an'  a  'oman  wer  a  greasin'  ove  his  shoulders  an' 
arms  outen  a  gourd.  A  pow'ful  curious,  vishus, 
skeery  lookin'  cuss  he  is  tu  b'  shure.  His  head  am 
as  big  es  a  wash  pot,  an'  he  hasent  the  fust  durned 
sign  ove  an  eye  —  jist  two  black  slits.  Is  thar 
much  small  pox  roun'  yere  ? '  'Small  pox!'  sez  I, 
'no  sir.'  'Been  much  fightin'  in  this  neighbor- 
hood lately  } '  '  Nun  wuf  speakin'  ove,'  sez  I.  He 
scratched  his  head  —  '  Nur  French  measils  } '  '  Not 
jis  clost,'  sez  L  'Well,  do  yu  know  what  ails  that 
m.an  back  thar  } '  *  Jist  gittin'  over  a  vilent  attack 
ove  dam  fool,'  sez  I.  '  Well,  who  is  he  env  how  t  ' 
I  ris  tu  my  feet,  an'  straiched  out  my  arm,  an'  sez  I, 
*Strainger,  that  man  is  my  dad.'  He  looked  at  my 
laigs  an'  pussonel  feeters  a  moment,  an'  sez  he. 
'  Yas,  dam  ef  he  aint.* 

"  Now  boys,  I  haint  seed  dad  since,  an'  I  dusent 
hev  much  appertite  tu  see  im  fur  sum  time  tu  cum. 
Less  all  drink  !  Yere  's  luck  tu  the  durned  old  fool, 
in'  the  ho'nets  too." 


424  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 


II. 


THE    "  BILED    SHUT." 

I  metSut,  one  morning,  weaving  along  in  his  usual 
rambling  uncertain  gait.  His  appearance  satisfied 
me  at  once  that  something  was  wrong.  He  had 
been  sick  —  whipped  in  a  free  fight,  or  was  just 
getting  on  his  legs  again,  from  a  "big  drunk." 

But  upon  this  point  I  was  soon  enlightened. 

"  Why,  Sut,  what  's  wrong  now  1    you  look  sick." 

*'  Heaps  wrong,  durn  my  skin  —  no  my  haslets 
—  ef  I  haint  mos'  ded,  an'  my  looks  don't  lie  when 
they  hints  that  I'se  sick.      I  is  sick  —  I'se  skin'd." 

"  Who  skinned  you  —  old  Bullen.'*  " 

"  No,  boss,  a  durnder  fool  nor  Bullen  did  hit  ;  I 
jis  skin'd  mysef." 

"  What  in  the  name  of  common  sense  did  you  do 
it  for  .?  " 

"  Did  n't  du  hit  in  the  name  ove  common  sense  ; 
did  hit  in  the  name,  an'  wif  the  sperit,  ove  plum 
natral  born  durn  fool. 

"Lite  ofen  that  ar  boss,  an'  take  a  ho'n  ;  I  wants 
two  ove  'em  (shaking  his  constant  companion,  a 
whiskey  flask,  at  me),  an'  plant  yersef  ontu  that  ar 
log,  an'  I  '11  tell  ef  I  kin,  but  hit  's  a'mos'  beyant 
tellin'. 

"  I'se  a  durnder  fool  nor  enybody  outside  a  As- 
salum,  ur  Kongriss,  'sceptin'  ove  my  own  dad,  fur 
he  actid  boss,  an'  I  haint  tried  that  yet.  I'se  allcrs 
intu  sum  trap  what  wud  n't  ketch  a  saidge-field 
sheep.  I  '11  drownd  mysef  sum  day,  jis  see  ef  I 
don't.  I  spects  that  wud  stop  the  famerly  dispersi- 
tion  tu  act  durn  fool,  so  fur  es  Sut  's  consarn'd." 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  425 

"  Well,  how  is  it,  Sut  ;  have  you  been  beat  play- 
ing cards  or  drinking  ?  " 

"Narawun,  by  geminy  !  them  jobs  can't  be  did  in 
these  yere  parts,  es  enybody  no's  on,  but  seein'  hits 
yu  I  '11  tell  hit.  I'se  sick-sham'd-sorry-sore-an'-mad 
tu  kill,  I  is.  Yu  no  I  boards  wif  Bill  Carr,  at  his 
cabin  ontu  the  mountin',  an'  pays  fur  sich  es  I  gits 
when  I  hes  munny,  an'  when  I  hesent  eny,  why  he 
takes  wun  third  outer  me  in  holesum  hot  cussin  ; 
an'  she,  that  's  his  wife  Betts,  takes  tuther  three 
thirds  out  wif  the  battlin'  stick,  an'  the  intrus'  wif 
her  sharp  tongue,  an'  she  takes  more  intrus'  nur 
principal.  She  's  the  cussedes'  'oman  I  ever  seed 
eny  how,  fur  jaw,  breedin',  an'  pride.  She  kin 
scold  a  blister  rite  plum  ontu  a  bull's  curl  in  two 
minits.  She  patterns  arter  all  new  fangl'd  fashuns 
she  hears  tell  on  frum  bussils  tu  britches.  Oh  ! 
she  's  wun  ove  'em,  an'  sumtimes  she  's  two  ur  three, 
she  is. 

"Well,  yu  see  I  'd  got  hole  on  sum  homade  cottin 
cloff,  fur  a  shirt,  an'  coax'd  Betts  tu  make  hit,  an 
'bout  the  time  hit  wer  dun,  yere  cum  a  cussed  stuck 
up  lawyer,  name  Jonsin,  an'  ax'd  fur  brekfus' — rite 
yere  I  wishes  the  bread  had  been  asnick,  an'  the 
meat  strikenine,  an'  that  he  'd  a  staid  an'  tuck  dinner 
too,  fur  he  hes  ni  ontu  fotch  about  my  aind,  durn 
his  sashararer  mitimurs  ole  soul  tu  thunder  ! 

"  I  wonder  hit  did  n't  work  'im  pow'ful  es  hit 
wer  ;  fur  Betts  cooks  up  sum  tarifyin'  mixtrys  ove 
vittils,  when  she  tries  hersef.  I'se  pizen  proof  my- 
sef  ;  fur  thuty  dullars,  I  jis  let  a  sluice  ove  aquafotis 
run  thru  me  fur  ha'f  a  day,  an'  then  live  tu  spen' 
the  las'  durn  cent,  fur  churnbrain  whiskey  ;  ef  I 
warnt  (holding  up  his  flask  and  peeping  through  it), 
I  'd  dun  been  ded  long  ago. 


426  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  Well,  while  he  wer  eatin',  she  spied  out  that  his 
shut  wer  mons'ous  stiff,  an'  es  slick  es  glass,  so  she 
never  rested  ontill  she  wurmed  hit  outen  'im  that  hit 
wer  dun  wif  a  flour  preparashun.  She  went  wif  'im 
a  piece  ove  the  way  down  the  mountin',  tu  git  the 
purticulers,  an'  when  she  cum  back  she  sed  she  had 
V;;/.     I  thot  she  had  mysef. 

"  She  imejuntly  sot  in,  an'  biled  a  big  pot  ove 
paste,  ni  ontu  a  peck  ove  hit,  an'  tole  me  I  wer 
gwine  tu  hev  *  the  gonest  purty  shut  in  that  range. 
Well,  she  wer  sorter  rite,  fur  when  I  las'  seed  hit  hit 
wer  purty  —  yas  orful  purty,  tu  a  rat,  ur  a  buzzard, 
ur  eny  uther  varmint  fon  ove  dirty,  skary  lookin* 
things  ;  but  frum  the  time  I  staid  inside  ove  hit,  I 
can't  say  that  es  a  human  shut  I  'd  gin  a  durn  fur  a 
dozin  ove  'em.  *  Gonest  purty  shut '  —  the  cussed 
ole  hen  jay  bird,  I  jis  wish  she  bed  tu  war  it  wif 
a  redpepper  linin'  on  till  she  gits  a-pas'  hatchin 
an'  that  wud  be  ni  ontu  eleving  year,  ef  she  tells  the 
truff. 

"  She  soused  my  shut  intu  the  pot,  an'  soaked  hit 
thar,  ontil  hit  tuck  up  mos'  ove  the  paste  ;  then  she 
tuck  hit  an'  iron'd  hit  out  flat,  an'  dry,  an'  sot  hit 
on  hits  aidge  agin  the  cabin  in  the  sun.  Thar  hit 
stood,  like  a  dry  boss  hide,  an'  hit  rattiled  hke  ontu 
a  sheet  ove  iron,  hit  did,  pasted  tugether  all  over  — 
*  gonest  purty  shut  ! ' —  durn'd  huzzy  ! 

**When  I  cum  tu  dinner,  nuffin  wud  du  Betts,  but 
I  mus'  put  myse'f  inside  hit  rite  thar.  She  partid 
the  tails  a  littil  piece  wif  a  case  nife,  an'  arter  I  got 
my  bed  started  up  intu  hit,  she  'd  pull  down,  fus'  at 
wun  tail,  an'  then  tuther,  ontil  I  wer  farly  inside  ove 
hit,  an'  button'd  in.  Durn  the  everlastin',  infunel, 
new  fangled  sheet  iron  cuss  ove  a  shut  !  I  say.     I 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  427 

felt  like  I  'd  crowded  intu  a  ole  bee-gum,  an'  hit  all 
full  ove  pissants  ;  but  hit  wer  a  '  born'd  twin  ove 
Lawyer  Jonsin's,'  Betts  sed,  an'  I  felt  like  standin' 
es  much  pussonal  discumfurt  es  he  cud,  jis  tu  git  tu 
sampil  arter  sumbody  human.  I  did  n't  know,  tu, 
but  what  hit  hed  the  vartu  ove  makin'  a  lawyer 
outen  me  agin  hit  got  limber. 

"  I  sot  in  tu  bildin'  ove  a  ash-hopper  fur  Betts,  an' 
work'd  pow'ful  hard,  sweat  like  a  boss,  an'  then  the 
shut  quit  hits  hurtin',  an'  tuck  tu  feelin'  slippery. 
Thinks  I,  that  's  sorter  lawyer  like  enyhow,  an'  I 
wer  hope  up  bout  the  shut,  an'  what  mout  cum  outen 
nit. 

"  Arter  I  got  dun  work,  I  tuck  me  a  four  finger 
dost  ove  bumble-bee  whiskey,  went  up  intu  the  lof 
an'  fell  asleep  a-thinkin'  bout  bein'  a  rale  sashararer 
lawyer,  boss,  saddil  bags,  an'  books  ;  an'  Betts  went 
over  the  top  tu  see  her  mam. 

"  Well,  arter  a  while  I  waked  up  ;  I  'd  jis  been 
dreamin'  that  the  judge  ove  the  supreme  cort  had 
me  sowed  up  in  a  raw  hide,  an'  sot  up  agin  a  hot 
pottery  kill  tu  dry,  an'  the  dryin'  woke  me. 

**  I  now  thort  I  wer  ded,  an'  hed  died  ove  rhuma- 
ticks  ove  the  hurtines'  kind.  All  the  jints  I  cud 
muve  wer  my  ankils,  knees,  an'  wrists  ;  cud  n't  even 
move  my  hed,  an'  scarsely  wink  my  eyes  ;  the  cussed 
shut  wer  pasted  fas'  ontu  me  all  over,  frum  the  ainds 
ove  the  tails  tu  the  pints  ove  the  broad-axe  collar 
over  my  years.  Hit  sot  tu  me  es  clost  es  a  poor 
cow  dus  tu  her  hide  sin  March.  I  worm'd  an* 
strain'd  an'  cuss'd  an'  grunted,  till  I  got  hit  sorter 
broke  at  the  shoulders  an'  elbows,  an'  then  I  dun 
the  durndes'  fool  thing  ever  did  in  these  yere  moun- 
tins.     I  shuffl'd  an'   tore  my  britches  off,   an'  skin'd 


428  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

loose  frum  my  hide  bout  two  inches  ove  the  tail  all 
roun  in  orful  pain,  an  quick-stigin'  trebulashun.  Oh  ! 
great  golly  grampus,  how  it  hurt !  Then  I  tuck  up 
a  plank  outen  the  lof.  an'  hung  my  laigs  down  thru 
the  hole,  sot  in,  an'  nail'd  the  aidge  ove  the  frunt 
tail  tu  the  floor  afore  me,  an'  the  hine  tail  I  nail'd 
tu  the  plank  what  I  sot  on.  I  flung  the  hammer 
outen  my  reach,  tu  keep  my  hart  frum  failin'  me, 
onbutton'd  the  collar  an'  risbans,  raised  my  bans 
way  abuv  my  bed,  shot  up  my  eyes,  sed  a  short 
grace,  an'  jump'd  thru  tu  the  groun'  floor,  jis  thuteen 
foot  wun  inch  clear  ove  jists." 

Here  Sut  remarked,  sadly  shaking  his  head, 
*'  George,  I'se  a  durnder  fool  nor  dad,  boss,  bo'nets, 
an'  gopher.  I  '11  bev  tu  drow^n'd  mysef  sum  ove 
these  days,  see  ef  I  don't." 

"  Well,  go  on,  Sut  ;  did  the  shirt  come  off }  " 

"I  —  t-b-i-n-k  —  h-i-t  —  d-id. 

'*  I  beam  a  nise  like  tarin  a  shingle  ruff  ofen  a 
hous'  at  wun  rake,  an'  felt  like  my  bones  wer  all 
what  lef  the  shut,  an'  reach'd  the  floor.  I  stagger'd 
tu  my  feet,  an'  tuck  a  moanful  look  up  at  my  shut. 
The  nails  bed  hilt  thar  holt,  an'  so  bed  the  tail  hem  ; 
thar  hit  wer  hangin'  arms  down,  inside  out,  an'  jis 
es  stiff  es  ever.  Hit  look'd  like  a  map  ove  Mexico, 
arter  one  ove  the  wurst  battils.  A  patch  ove  my 
skin  'bout  the  size  ove  a  dullar,  ur  a  dullar  an'  a  'alf 
bill  yere,  a  bunch  ove  bar  bout  like  a  bird's  nes' 
thar,  then  sum  more  skin,  then  sum  paste,  then  a 
littil  more  bar,  then  a  heap  ove  skin  —  bar  an'  skin 
straight  along  all  over  that  newfangl'd  everlastin', 
infunel  pasted  cuss  ove  a  durnd  shut !  Hit  wer  a 
picter  tu  look  at,  an'  so  wer  I. 

"  The  hide,  bar,  an'  paste  wer  about  ekally  devided 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  429 

atwix  me  an'  hit.  George,  listen  tu  me  :  hit  looked 
adzactly  like  the  skin  ove  sum  wile  beas'  tore  off 
alive,  ur  a  bag  what  hed  toted  a  laig  ove  fresh  beef 
frum  a  shootin'  match. 

'*  Bill  cum  home  wif  Betts,  an'  wer  the  fust  inter 
the  cabin.  He  backed  outen  hit  agin,  an'  sez  he, 
*  Marcyful  payrint !  thar 's  been  murderin'  dun  yere  ; 
hits  been  ole  Bullen  ;  he  's  skinn'd  Sut,  an'  thars  his 
hide  hung  up  tu  dry.'  Betts  walked  roun'  hit,  a 
zaminin'  hit,  till  at  las'  she  venter'd  clost,  an'  know'd 
her  sowin'. 

"  Sez  she,  *  Yu  dad  dratted  ole  pot-head,  that  's 
his  Sunday  shut.  Hes  hed  a  drefful  fite,  tho',  wif 
sumbody  ;  did  lit  they  go  fur  his  har  ofen  } '  '  An 
rine  in  'bundance,'  sed  Bill.  *  Yas  boss,'  sed  Betts 
agine, '  an'  ef  I  'd  been  him,  /  \i  a  shed  hit.  I  wud  n't 
a  fit  es  nasty  a  fite  es  that  wer,  in  my  fines'  shut, 
wud  yu.  Bill  } ' 

"  Now,  George,  I  's  boun  tu  put  up  Jonsin's  meat 
fur  im  on  site,  wifout  regardin'  good  killin'  weather, 
an'  ef  ever  a  'oman  flattins  out  a  shut  fur  me  agin, 
durn  my  everlastin'  picter  ef  I  don't  flattin  her  out 
es  thin  es  a  step-chile's  bread  an'  butter.  I  '11  du 
hit  ef  hit  takes  me  a  week. 

"  Hits  a  retribushun,  sartin,  the  biggest  kine  ove 
a  preacher's  regular  retribushun,  what  am  tu  be 
foun'  in  the  Holy  Book. 

"  Dus  yu  mine  my  racin'  dad,  wif  sum  ho'nets,  an' 
so  forth,  intu  the  krick  .'' 

"  Well,  this  am  what  cums  ove  hit.  I  '11  drownd 
mysef,  see  ef  I  don't,  that  is  ef  I  don't  die  frum  that 
hellfired  shut.  Now,  George,  ef  a  red-heded  'oman 
wif  a  reel  foot  axes  yu  tu  marry  her,  yu  7naj/  du  hit ; 
ef  an  'oman  wants  yu  tu  kill  her  husbun,  yu  majy  do 


430  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

hit  ;  ef  a  gal  axes  yu  tu  rob  the  bank,  an'  take  her 
tu  Californy,  yu  may  du  hit  ;  ef  wun  on  em  wants 
yu  tu  quit  whiskey,  yu  vioiit  even  du  that.  But  ef 
ever  an  'oman,  ole  ur  yung,  purty  es  a  sunflower  ur 
ugly  es  a  skin'd  boss,  offers  yu  a  shut  aninted  wif 
paste  tu  put  on,  jis  yu  kill  her  in  her  tracks,  an' 
burn  the  cussed  pisnus  shut  rite  thar.  Take  a 
ho'n  ? " 

III. 

PARSON    BULLEN'S    LIZARDS. 
AIT   ($8)   DULLARS   REW-ARD. 

'TENSHUN   BELEVERS   and   KONSTABLES  !    KETCH   'iM  !    KETCH   'iM  ! 

This  kash  wil  be  pade  in  korn,  ur  uther  projuce, 
tu  be  kolected  at  ur  about  nex  camp-meetin',  iir  thar- 
arter,  by^eny  wun  what  ketches  him,  fur  the  karkus 
ove  a  sartin  wun  Sut  Lovingood,  dead  ur  alive,  ur 
ailin',  an'  safely  giv  over  tu  the  purtectin'  care  ove 
Parson  John  Bullin,  ur  lef  well  tied  at  Squire  Mack- 
junkins,  fur  the  raisin'  ove  the  devil  pussonely,  an' 
permiskusly  discumfurtin'  the  wimen  very  powerful, 
an'  skeerin'  ove  folks  generly  a  heap,  an'  bustin'  up  a 
promisin',  big  warm  meetin',  an'  a  makin'  the  wickid 
larf,  an'  wus,  an'  vvus,  insultin'  ove  the  passun  orful. 

Test,         Jehu  Wethero. 

Sined  by  me, 

John  Bullen,  the  passun. 

I  found  written  copies  of  the  above  highly  intelli- 
gible and  vindictive  proclamation  stuck  up  on  every 
blacksmith  shop,  doggery,  and  store  door  in  the 
Frog  Mountain  Range.     Its  bloodthirsty  spirit,  its 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  43 1 

Style,  and,  above  all,  its  chirography  interested  me 
to  the  extent  of  taking  one  down  from  a  tree  for 
preservation. 

In  a  few  days  I  found  Sut  in  a  good  crowd  in 
front  of  Capehart's  Doggery,  and  as  he  seemed  to 
be  about  in  good  tune  I  read  it  to  him. 

"  Yas,  George,  that  ar  dockymint  am  in  dead 
yearnist,  sartin.  Them  hard  shells  over  thar  dus 
want  me  the  wus  kine,  powerful  bad.  But,  I  spect 
ait  dullers  won't  fetch  me,  nither  wud  ait  hundred, 
bekase  thar  's  nun  ove  'em  fas'  enuf  tu  ketch  me, 
nither  is  thar  bosses,  by  the  livin'  jingo  !  Say, 
George,  much  talk  'bout  this  fuss  up  whar  yu 're 
been  ? "  For  the  sake  of  a  joke  I  said  yes,  a  great 
deal. 

•'Jis  es  I  'spected,  durn  'em,  all  git  drunk,  an' 
skeer  thar  fool  sefs  ni  ontu  deth,  an'  then  lay  hit 
ontu  me,  a  poor  innersent  youf,  an'  es  soun'  a  be- 
lever  es  they  is.  Lite,  lite,  ole  feller,  an^  let  that 
roan  ove  yourn  blow  a  litil,  an'  I  '11  'splain  this 
cussed  misfortnit  affar  :  hit  hes  ruinated  my  karac- 
ter  es  a  pins  pusson  in  the  s'ciety  roun'  yere,  an'  is 
a  spreadin'  faster  nur  meazils.  When  ever  yu  hear 
eny  on  'em  a  spreadin'  hit,  gin  hit  the  dam  lie  squar, 
will  yu  }  I  hain't  dun  nuffin  tu  one  ove  'em.  Hits 
true,  I  did  sorter  frustrate  a  few  lizzards  a  littil,  but 
they  hain't  members,  es  I  knows  on. 

"  You  see,  las'  year  I  went  tu  the  big  meetin',  at 
Rattlesnake  Springs,  an'  wer  a  sittin'  in  a  nice  shady 
place  convarsin'  wif  a  frien'  ove  mine,  jis  duin'  nufifin 
tu  nobody  an'  makin'  no  fuss,  when,  the  fust  thing  I 
remembers,  I  woke  up  frum  a  trance  what  I  bed 
been  knocked  inter  by  a  four-year  old  hickory-stick, 
hilt  in  the  paw  ove  ole  Passun  BuUin,  durn  his  alii- 


432  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

gater  hide  ;  an'  he  wer  standin'  a  striddil  ove  me,  a 
foamin'  at  the  mouf,  a-chompin'  his  teeth,  gesterin, 
vvif  the  hickory  club,  an'  a-preachin'  tu  me  so  you 
cud  a-hearn  him  a  mile,  about  a  sartin  sins  gineraly, 
an'  my  wickedness  pussonely,  an'  mensunin'  the 
name  ove  my  frien'  loud  enuf  tu  be  hearn  tu  the 
meetin'  'ous.  My  poor  innersent  frien'  wer  dun 
gone,  an'  I  were  glad  ove  hit,  fur  I  tho't  he  ment  tu 
kill  me  rite  whar  I  lay,  an'  I  did  n't  want  her  tu  see 
me  die." 

"  Who  was  she,  the  friend  you  speak  of,  Sut  ?  " 
Sut  opened  his  eyes  wide. 

"  Hu  the  devil  an'  durnashun  tole  yti  that  hit  wer 
a  she  }  " 

"  Why,  you  did,  Sut  "  — 

*'  I  did  lit,  durn  ef  I  did.  Ole  Bullin  dun  hit,  an* 
I  '11  hev  tu  kill  him  3^et,  the  cussed,  infernel  ole  tale- 
barer  !  "  — 

"  Well,  well,  Sut,  who  was  she  .^  " 

"  Nun  ove  y-u-r-e  b-i-s-n-i-s-s,  durn  yure  littil  ank- 
shus  picter  !  He  'd  a  heap  better  a  stole  sum  man  s 
hoss  ;  I  'd  a  tho't  more  ove  'im.  But  I  paid  him 
plum  up  fur  hit,  an'  I  means  tu  keep  a  payin'  him, 
ontil  one  ur  tuther  ove  our  toes  pints  up  tu  the 
roots  ove  the  grass. 

"  Well,  yere  's  the  way  I  lifted  that  note  ove  han'. 
At  the  nex  big  meetin'  at  Rattilsnaik  —  las'  week 
hit  wer —  I  wer  on  han,'  es  solemn  es  a  ole  hat  kiv- 
ver  on  collection  day.  I  hed  my  face  draw'd  out 
intu  the  shape  an'  perporshun  ove  a  taylwer's  sleeve- 
board,  pint  down.  I  hed  put  on  the  convicted  sin- 
ner so  pufeckly  that  an'  ole  obsarvin'  she  pillar  ove 
the  church  sed  tu  a  ole  he  pillar,  es  I  walked  up  tu 
my  bainch  :  — 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  433 

" '  Law  sakes  alive,  ef  thar  ain't  that  orftil  sinner, 
Sut  Lovingood,  pearced  plum  thru  ;  hu  's  nex  ? ' 

"  Yu  see,  by  golly,  George,  I  hed  tu  promis  the  ole 
tub  ove  soap-greas  tu  cum  an'  hev  myself  convarted, 
jis  tu  keep  him  frum  killin'  me.  An'  es  I  know'd 
hit  wud  n't  interfare  wif  the  relashun  I  bore  tu  the 
still  housis  roun'  thar,  I  did  n't  keer  a  durn.  I  jis 
wanted  tu  git  ni  ole  Bullin,  onst  onsuspected,  an' 
this  wer  the  bes'  way  tu  du  hit.  I  tuk  a  seat  on  the 
side  steps  ove  the  pulpit,  an'  kivvered  es  much  ove 
my  straitch'd  face  es  I  could  wif  my  ban's,  tu  prove 
I  were  in  yearnis.  Hit  tuk  powerful,  fur  I  hearn 
a  sorter  thankful  kine  ove  buzzin'  all  over  the  con- 
gregashun.  Ole  Bullin  hissef  looked  down  at  me, 
over  his  ole  copper  specks,  an'  hit  sed  jis  es  plain 
as  a  look  cud  say  hit,  *  Yu  am  thar,  ar  you  ;  durn 
yu,  hits  well  fur  yu  that  yu  cum.'  I  tho't  sorter  dif- 
frent  frum  that.  I  tho't  hit  wud  a  been  well  fur  ytCy 
ef  I  hadent  a-cum,  but  I  did  n't  say  hit  jis  then.  Thar 
wer  a  monstrus  crowd  in  that  grove,  fur  the  weather 
wer  fine,  an'  b'levers  wer  plenty  roun'  about  Rattil- 
snaik  Springs.  Ole  Bullin  gin  out,  an'  they  sung 
that  hyme,  yu  know  :  — 

"  '  Thar  will  be  mournin',  moumin'  yere,  an'  mournin'  thar, 
On  that  dredful  day  tu  cum.' 

"  Thinks  I,  Ole  boss,  kin  hit  be  possibil  enybody 
hes  tole  yu  what 's  a  gwine  tu  happin  }  an'  then  I 
tho't  that  nobody  know'd  hit  but  me,  and  I  wer  cum- 
forted.  He  nex  tuck  hisself  a  tex  pow'fly  mixed  wif 
brimstone,  an'  trim'd  wif  blue  flames,  an'  then  he 
open'd.  He  cummenced  ontu  the  sinners  ;  he  threat- 
en'd  'em  orful,  tried  tu  skeer  'em  wif  all  the  wust 
varmints  he  cud  think  ove,  an'  arter  a  while  he  got 
ontu  the  idear  ove  Hell-sarpints,  and  he  dwelt  on  it 

28 


434  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

sum.  He  tole  'em  how  the  ole  Hell-sarpints  wud 
sarve  em  if  they  did  n't  repent  ;  how  cold  they  'd 
crawl  over  thar  nakid  bodys,  an'  how  Hke  ontu  pitch 
they  'd  stick  tu  'em  es  they  crawled  ;  how  they  'd  rap 
thar  tails  roun'  thar  naiks,  chokin'  clost,  poke  thar 
tungs  up  thar  noses,  an'  hiss  intu  thar  years.  He 
kep  on  a  bellerin,  but  I  got  so  buisy  jis  then  that 
I  didn't  listen  tu  him  much,  fur  I  saw  that  my  time 
fur  ackshun  hed  cum.  Now  yu  see,  George,  I  'd 
cotch  seven  ur  eight  big  pot-bellied  lizzards,  an'  hed 
'em  in  a  Uttil  narrer  bag,  what  I  had  made  a-purpus  ; 
thar  tails  all  at  the  bottim,  an'  so  crowdid  fur  room 
that  they  cudent  turn  roun'.  So  when  he  wer  a- 
ravin'  ontu  his  tip-toes,  an'  a-poundin'  the  pulpit  wif 
his  fis',  onbenowenst  tu  enybody,  I  ontied  my  bag 
eve  reptiles,  put  the  mouf  ove  hit  onder  the  bottim 
ove  his  britches-laig.  an'  sot  intu  pinchin'  thar  tails. 
Quick  es  gunpowder  they  all  tuck  up  his  bar  laig, 
makin'  a  nise  like  squirrils  a-climbin'  a  shell-bark 
hickory.  He  stop't  preachin'  rite  in  the  middil  ove 
the  word  *  damnation,'  an'  looked  fur  a  moment  like 
he  wer  a  listenin'  fur  sumthin  —  sorter  like  a  ole  sow 
dus,  when  she  hears  yu  a-whistlin'  fur  the  dorgs. 
The  tarifick  shape  ove  his  feeters  stopp't  the  shoutin' 
an'  screamin'  ;  instuntly  yu  cud  hearn  a  cricket 
chirp.  I  gin  a  long  groan,  an'  hilt  my  head  a-twixt 
my  knees.  He  gin  hisself  sum  orful  open-handed 
slaps  wif  fust  one  han'  an'  then  tuther,  about  the 
place  whar  yu  cut  the  bes'  steak  outen  a  beef.  Then 
he  'd  fetch  a  vigrus  ruff  rub  whar  a  bosses  tail 
sprouts  ;  then  he  'd  stomp  one  foot,  then  tuther, 
then  bof  at  oust.  Then  he  run  his  han'  atween  his 
waisbun  an'  his  shut,  an'  reach'd  way  down  an'  roun' 
wif  hit  ;    then  he  spread  his  big  laigs,  an'  gin  his 


"  The  tarifick  shape  ove  his  feeters."     See  page  434. 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  435 

back  a  good  rattlin'  rub  agin  the  pulpit,  like  a  hog 
scratches  hisself  agin  a  stump,  leanin'  tu  hit  pow'ful, 
an'  twitchin',  an'  squirmin'  all  over,  es  ef  he  'd  slept 
in  a  dorg  bed,  ur  ontu  a  pisant  hill.  About  this 
time,  one  ove  my  lizzards,  scared  an'  hurt  by  all  this 
poundin'  an'  feelin'  an'  scratchin',  popp'd  out  his 
head  frum  the  passun's  shut  collar  an'  his  ole  brown 
naik,  an'  wer  a-surveyin'  the  crowd,  when  ole  Bullin 
struck  at  'im,  jis  too  late,  fur  he  'd  dodged  back  agin. 
The  hell-desarvin  ole  raskil's  speech  now  cum  tu  'im, 
an'  sez  he,  '  Pray  fur  me,  brethren  an'  sisteren,  fur  I 
is  a-rastilin  wif  the  great  inimy  rite  now  !  '  an'  his 
voice  wer  the  mos'  pitiful,  trimblin  thing  I  ever 
hearn.  Sum  ove  the  wimmen  fotch  a  painter  yell, 
an'  a  young  docter,  wif  ram.rod  laigs.  lean'd  toward 
me  monstrus  knowin'  like,  an'  sez  he,  '  Clar  case  ove 
Delishus  Tremenjus.'  I  nodded  my  head,  an'  sez  I, 
*  Yas,  spechuly  the  tremenjus  part,  an'  I'se  feard  hit 
hain't  at  hits  worst.'  Ole  Bullin's  eyes  wer  a-stickin* 
out  like  ontu  two  buckeyes  flung  agin  a  mud  wall, 
an'  he  wer  a-cuttin'  up  more  shines  nor  a  cockroach 
in  a  hot  skillet.  Off  went  the  clamhammer  coat,  an' 
he  flung  hit  ahine  'im  like  he  wer  a-gwine  intu  a 
fight ;  he  hed  no  jackid  tu  take  off,  so  he  unbuttond 
his  galluses,  an'  vigrusly  flung  the  ainds  back  over 
his  head.  He  fotch  his  shut  over-handed  a  durnd 
site  faster  nor  I  got  outen  my  pasted  one,  an'  then 
flung  hit  strait  up  in  the  air,  like  he  jis  wanted  hit 
tu  keep  on  up  furever  ;  but  hit  lodged  ontu  a  black- 
jack, an'  I  seed  one  ove  my  lizzards,  wif  his  tail  up, 
a-racin'  about  all  over  the  ole  dirty  shut,  skared  too 
bad  tu  jump.  Then  he  gin  a  sorter  shake  an'  a 
stompin'  kine  ove  twis',  an'  he  cum  outer  his  britches. 
He  tuck  'em  by  the  bottim  ove  the  laigs,  an'  swung 


436  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

'em  roun*  his  head  a  time  ur  two,  an'  then  fotch  'em 
down  cherall-up  over  the  frunt  ove  the  pulpit.  You 
cud  a  hearn  the  smash  a  quarter  ove  a  mile  !  Ni 
ontu  fifteen  shorten'd  biskits,  a  boiled  chicken,  wif 
hits  laigs  crossed,  a  big  dubbil-bladed  knife,  a  hunk 
ove  terbacker,  a  cob-pipe,  sum  copper  ore,  lots  ove 
broken  glass,  a  cork,  a  sprinkil  ove  whisky,  a  squirt, 
an'  three  lizzards  flew  permiskusly  all  over  that 
meetin'-groun',  outen  the  upper  aind  ove  them  big 
flax  britches.  Now  ole  Bullin  hed  nufifin  left  ontu 
'im  but  a  par  ove  heavy,  low  quarter'd  shoes,  short 
woolen  socks,  an'  eel-skin  garters  tu  keep  off  the 
cramp.  His  skeer  hed  druv  him  plum  crazy,  fur  he 
felt  roun'  in  the  air,  abuv  his  head,  like  he  wer 
huntin'  sumthin  in  the  dark,  an'  he  beller'd  out, 
*  Brethren,  brethren,  take  keer  ove  yerselves  ;  the 
Hell-sarpints  lies  got  me  !  '  When  this  cum  out,  yu 
cud  a-hearn  the  screams  tu  HaUfax.  He  jis  spit  in 
his  ban's,  an'  loped  over  the  frunt  ove  the  pulpid 
kei'diff  f  He  open'd  a  purfeckly  clar  track  tu  the 
woods,  ove  every  livin'  thing.  He  weighed  ni  ontu 
three  hundred,  hed  a  black  stripe  down  his  back, 
like  ontu  a  ole  bridil  rein.  Thar  wer  cramp-knots  on 
his  laigs  es  big  es  walnuts,  an'  mottled  splotches  on 
his  shins  ;  an'  takin'  him  all  over,  he  minded  ove  a 
durnd  crazy  ole  elephant,  pussessed  ove  the  devil, 
rared  up  on  hits  hind  aind,  an'  ]\^  gittin  frum  sum 
imijut  danger  ur  tribulashun.  He  did  the  loudest, 
an*  skariest,  an'  fussiest  runnin'  I  ever  seed,  tu  be  no 
faster  nur  hit  wer,  since  dad  tried  tu  outrun  the 
ho'nets. 

"Well,  he  disapear'd  in  the  thicket  jis  bustin  ; 
an'  ove  all  the  noises  yu  ever  hearn,  wer  made  thar 
on  that  camp  groun'  :  sum  wimen  screamin' — they 


SUT  LOVINGOOD.  437 

wer  the  skeery  ones  ;  sum  larfin  —  they  wer  the 
wicked  ones  ;  sum  cryin'  —  they  wer  the  fool  ones 
(sorter  my  stripe,  yu  know)  ;  sum  tryin'  tu  git  away, 
wif  thar  faces  red  —  they  wer  the  modest  ones  ;  sum 
lookin'  arter  ole  BulUn'  —  they  wer  the  curious  ones  ; 
sum  hangin'  clost  tu  thar  sweethearts  —  they  wer 
the  sweet  ones  ;  sum  on  thar  knees,  wif  thar  eyes 
shot,  but  facin'  the  way  the  old  mud  turtil  wer  arun- 
nin'  —  they  wer  the  'saitful  ones;  sum  duin  nuthin 
—  they  wer  the  waitin'  ones,  an'  the  mos'  dangerus 
ove  all  ove  em  by  a  durnd  long  site. 

"  I  tuck  a  big  skeer  mysef  arter  a  few  rocks,  an' 
sich  like  fruit,  spattered  ontu  the  pulpit  ni  ontu  my 
head  ;  an'  es  the  Lovingoods,  durn  em  !  knows  nuffin 
but  tu  run,  when  they  gits  skeerd,  I  jis  put  out  fur 
the  swamp  on  the  krick.  As  I  started,  a  black  bottil 
ove  bald-face  smashed  agin  a  tree  furninst  me,  arter 
missin'  the  top  ove  my  head  'bout  a  inch.  Sum 
durn'd  fool  professor  dun  this,  who  hed  more  zeal 
or  sence  ;  fur  I  say  that  eny  man  who  wud  waste  a 
quart  ove  even  mean  sperrits,  fur  the  chance  ove 
knockin'  a  poor  ornary  devil  like  me  down  wif  the 
bottil,  is  a  bigger  fool  nor  ole  Squire  Mackmullen, 
an'  he  tried  tu  shoot  hissef  wif  a  onloaded  hoe- 
handle." 

"  Did  they  catch  you,  Sut  t  " 

"  Ketch  thunder  !  No,  sir  !  Jis'  look  at  these  yere 
laigs  !  Skeer  me,  boss,  jis  skeer  me,  an'  then  watch 
me  while  I  stay  in  site,  an'  yu  '11  never  ax  that  fool 
question  agin.  Why,  durn  it,  man,  that  's  what  the 
ait  dullers  am  fur. 

"  Ole  Bullin,  never  preached  ontil  yesterday,  an' 
he  had  n't  the  fust  durn'd  'oman  tu  hear  'im  ;  they  hev 
seed  too  much  ove  'im.     His  tex'  wer,  *  Nakid  I  cum 


438  ODDITIES  IN  SOU  I  HERN  LIEE. 

intu  the  world,  an'  nakid  I  'm  a  gwine  outen  hit,  ef 
I  'm  spard  ontil  then.'  He  sed  nakidness  warnt 
much  ove  a  sin,  purtickerly  ove  dark  nights  ;  that 
he  vver  a  weak,  frail  wum  ove  the  dus',  an'  a  heap 
more  sich  truck.  Then  he  totch  ontu  me  ;  sed  I  wer 
a  livin'  proof  ove  the  hell-desarvin'  nater  ove  man, 
an'  that  thar  warnt  grace  enuf  in  the  whole  'sociation 
tu  saften  my  outside  rind  ;  that  I  wer  *  a  lost  ball ' 
forty  years  afore  I  wer  born'd,  an'  the  bes'  thing 
they  cud  du  fur  the  church  wer  tu  turn  out,  an'  still 
hunt  fur  me  ontil  I  wer  shot.  An'  he  never  said 
Hell-sarpints  oust  in  the  hole  preach.  I  b'leve, 
George,  the  durnd  fools  am  at  hit. 

"  Now,  I  wants  yu  tu  tell  ole  Bullin  this  fur  me : 
ef  he  '11  let  me  alone,  I  '11  let  him  alone  —  a-while  ; 
an'  ef  he  don't,  ef  I  don't  lizzard  him  agin,  I  jis'  wish 
I  may  be  dod  durnd  !     Skeer  him  if  yit  ken. 

"  Let  's  go  tu  the  spring  an'  take  a  ho'n. 

''  Say,  George,  did  n't  that  ar  Hell-sarpint  sermon 
ove  his'n  hev  sumthin  like  a  Hell-sarpint  aplica- 
shun'  t    Hit  looks  sorter  so  tu  me." 


GEORGE  W.  BAGBY. 


One  of  the  brightest  of  writers  for  the  press,  and  for  periodical 
literature,  produced  by  the  South  is  undoubtedly  the  author  of  the 
letters  of  **  Mozis  Addums  to  Billy  Ivins,"  a  series  of  smart  and  rak- 
ish stories  written  from  Washington  toward  the  "wee  sma'  hours  " 
of  the  fifties,  and  although  composed  in  the  main  of  personal  allusions 
and  local  and  current  hits,  sufficiently  perspicuous  and  clever  to  at- 
tract general  attention.  Dr,  Bagby  has  been  all  his  life  a  journalist 
and  litterateur,  having  in  his  time  occupied  such  diversified  posts  as 
editor  of  the  "  Southern  Literary  INIessenger,"  librarian  of  Virginia, 
leader  writer,  and  war  correspondent  for  various  Richmond  dailies. 
The  following  amusing  sketch  is  a  good  illustration  of  his  comic 
manner. 


HOW  "ruby"  played. 

Jud  Bro^^•n^n,  when  visiting  New  York,  goes  to  hear  Rubinstein, 
and  gives  the  following  description  of  his  playing  :  — 

Well,  sir,  he  had  the  blamedest,  biggest,  catty- 
cornedest  planner  you  ever  laid  eyes  on  ;  somethin' 
hke  a  distracted  billiard  table  on  three  legs.  The 
lid  was  hoisted,  and  mighty  well  it  was.  If  it  had  n't 
been  he  'd  a  tore  the  entire  inside  clean  out,  and 
scattered  'em  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven. 

Played  ivell  ?  You  bet  he  did  ;  but  don't  inter- 
rupt me.  When  he  first  sit  down,  he  'peared  to  keer 
mighty  little  'bout  playin',  and  wisht  he  had  n't 
come.  He  tweedle-eedled  a  little  on  the  treble,  and 
twoodle-oodled  some  on  the  base,  — just  foolin'  and 
boxin'  the  thing's  jaws  for  bein'  in  his  way.     And  I 


440  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

says  to  a  man  settin'  next  to  me,  says  I,  "  What 
sort  of  fool  playin'  is  that  ?  "  And  he  says, 
"  Heish  !  "  But  presently  his  hands  commenced 
chasin'  one  another  up  and  down  the  keys,  like  a 
passel  of  rats  scamperin'  through  a  garret  very  swift. 
Parts  of  it  was  sweet,  though,  and  reminded  me  of 
a  sugar  squirrel  turnin'  the  wheel  of  a  candy  cage. 

"  Now,"  I  says  to  my  neighbor,  "  he  's  showin'  off. 
He  thinks  he's  a-doin'  of  it,  but  he  ain't  got  no 
idee,  no  plan  of  nothin'.  If  he  'd  play  me  a  tune  of 
some  kind  or.  other  I  'd"  — 

But  my  neighbor  says  **  Heish  !  "  very  impatient. 

I  was  just  about  to  git  up  and  go  home,  bein' 
tired  of  that  foolishness,  when  I  heard  a  little  bird 
waking  up  away  off  in  the  woods,  and  call  sleepy- 
like  to  his  mate,  and  1  looked  up  and  see  that  Rubin 
was  beginning  to  take  some  interest  in  his  business, 
and  I  sit  down  again.  It  was  the  peep  of  day.  The 
light  came  faint  from  the  east  ;  the  breezes  blowed 
gentle  and  fresh  ;  some  more  birds  waked  up  in  the 
orchard,  then  some  more  in  the  trees  near  the 
house,  and  all  begun  singin'  together.  People  began 
to  stir,  and  the  gal  opened  the  shutters.  Just  then 
the  first  beam  of  the  sun  fell  upon  the  blossoms  a 
leetle  more,  and  it  techt  the  roses  on  the  bushes,  and 
the  next  thing  it  was  broad  day  :  the  sun  fairly 
blazed  ;  the  birds  sung  like  they  'd  split  their  little 
throats  ;  all  the  leaves  was  movin',  and  flashin'  dia- 
monds of  dew,  and  the  whole  wide  world  was  bright 
and  happy  as  a  king.  Seemed  to  me  Uke  there  was  a 
good  breakfast  in  every  house  in  the  land,  and  not 
a  sick  child  or  woman  anywhere.  It  was  a  fine 
mornin'. 

And  I  says  to  my  neighbor,  "  That  's  music,  that 


\s." 


GEORGE    W.   BAGBY.  44 1 

But  he  glared  at  me  like  he  'd  Hke  to  cut  my 
throat. 

Presently  the  wind  turned  ;  it  begun  to  thicken 
up,  and  a  kind  of  gray  mist  came  over  things  ;  I  got 
low-spirited  directly.  Then  a  silver  rain  begun  to 
fall.  I  could  see  the  drops  touch  the  ground  ;  some 
flashed  up  like  long  pearl  ear-rings,  and  the  rest 
rolled  away  like  round  rubies.  It  was  pretty,  but 
melancholy.  Then  the  pearls  gathered  themselves 
into  long  strands  and  necklaces,  and  then  they 
melted  into  thin  silver  streams,  running  between 
golden  gravels;  and  then  the  streams  joined  each 
other  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  and  made  a  brook 
that  flowed  silent,  except  that  you  could  kinder  see 
the  music,  specially  when  the  bushes  on  the  banks 
moved  as  the  music  went  along  down  the  valley.  I 
could  smell  the  flowers  in  the  meadow.  But  the  sun 
did  n't  shine,  nor  the  birds  sing ;  it  was  a  foggy  day, 
but  not  cold. 

The  most  curious  thing  was  the  little  white  angel- 
boy,  like  you  see  in  pictures,  that  run  ahead  of  the 
music  brook  and  led  it  on  and  on,  away  out  of  the 
world,  where  no  man  ever  was,  certain.  I  could 
see  that  boy  just  as  plain  as  I  see  you.  Then  the 
moonlight  came,  without  any  sunset,  and  shone  on 
the  graveyards,  where  some  few  ghosts  lifted  their 
hands  and  went  over  the  wall ;  and  between  the 
black,  sharp-top  trees  splendid  marble  houses  rose 
up,  with  fine  ladies  in  the  lit-up  windows,  and  men 
that  loved  'em,  but  could  never  get  a-nigh  'em,  who 
played  on  guitars  under  the  trees,  and  made  me  that 
miserable  I  could  have  cried,  because  I  wanted  to 
love  somebody,  I  don't  know  who,  better  than  the 
men  with  the  guitars  did. 


442  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Then  the  moon  went  down,  it  got  dark,  the  wind 
moaned  and  wept  like  a  lost  child  for  its  dead 
mother,  and  I  could  a  got  up  then  and  there  and 
preached  a  better  sermon  than  any  I  ever  listened 
to.  There  was  n't  a  thing  in  the  world  left  to  live 
for,  not  a  blame  thing,  and  yet  I  did  n't  want  the 
music  to  stop  one  bit.  It  was  happier  to  be  miser- 
able than  to  be  happy  without  being  miserable.  I 
could  n't  understand  it.  I  hung  my  head  and  pulled 
out  my  handkerchief,  and  blowed  my  nose  loud  to 
keep  me  from  cryin'.  My  eyes  is  weak  any  way.  I 
did  n't  want  anybody  to  be  a-gazin'  at  me  a-snivlin', 
and  it  's  nobody's  business  what  I  do  with  my  nose. 
It  's  mine.  But  some  several  glared  at  me  mad  as 
blazes.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  old  Rubin  changed 
his  tune.  He  ripped  out  and  he  rared,  he  tipped 
and  he  tared,  he  pranced  and  he  charged  like  the 
grand  entry  at  a  circus.  'Feared  to  me  that  all  the 
gas  in  the  house  was  turned  on  at  once,  things  got 
so  bright,  and  I  hilt  up  my  head,  ready  to  look  any 
man  in  the  face,  and  not  afraid  of  nothin'.  It  was  a 
circus,  and  a  brass  band,  and  a  big  ball,  all  goin'  on 
at  the  same  time.  He  lit  into  them  keys  like  a 
thousand  of  brick  ;  he  give  em  no  rest  day  or  night ; 
he  set  every  livin'  joint  in  me  a-goin',  and  not  bein' 
able  to  stand  it  no  longer,  I  jumped  spang  onto  my 
seat,  and  jest  hollered, — 

*'  Go  it,  my  Rube  !'* 

Every  blamed  man,  woman,  and  child  in  the  house 
riz  on  me,  and  shouted,  "  Put  him  out !  put  him 
out ! " 

"  Put  your  great-grandmother's  grizzly  gray  green- 
ish cat  into  the  middle  of  next  month  ! "  I  says. 
**  Tech  me  if  you  dare  .-*  I  paid  my  money,  and  you 
jest  come  a-nigh  me  !  " 


GEORGE    W.   BAGBY.  443 

With  that  some  several  policemen  run  up,  and  I 
had  to  simmer  down.  But  I  would  a  fit  any  fool  that 
laid  hands  on  me,  for  I  was  bound  to  hear  Ruby  out 
or  die. 

He  had  changed  his  tune  again.  He  hop-light 
ladies  and  tip-toed  fine  from  end  to  end  of  the  key- 
board. He  played  soft  and  low  and  solemn.  I  heard 
the  church  bells  over  the  hills.  The  candles  of 
heaven  was.  lit,  one  by  one ;  I  saw  the  stars  rise. 
The  great  organ  of  eternity  began  to  play  from  the 
world's  end  to  the  world's  end,  and  all  the  angels 
went  to  prayers.  .  .  .  Then  the  music  changed  to 
water,  full  of  feeling  that  could  n't  be  thought,  and 
began  to  drop  —  drip,  drop  —  drip,  drop,  clear  and 
sweet,  like  tears  of  joy  falling  into  a  lake  of  glory.  It 
was  sweeter  than  that.  It  was  as  sweet  as  a  sweet- 
heart sweetened  with  white  sugar  mixtwith  powdered 
silver  and  seed  diamonds.  It  was  too  sweet.  I  tell  you 
the  audience  cheered.  Rubin  he  kinder  bowed,  like 
he  wanted  to  say,  *'  Much  obleeged,  but  I  'd  rather 
you  would  n't  interrup'  me.*' 

He  stopt  a  moment  or  two  to  ketch  breath.  Then 
he  got  mad.  He  run  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  he 
shoved  up  his  sleeve,  he  opened  his  coat  tails  a 
leetle  further,  he  drug  up  his  stool,  he  leaned  over, 
and,  sir,  he  just  went  for  that  old  planner.  He  slapt 
her  face,  he  boxed  her  jaws,  he  pulled  her  nose,  he 
pinched  her  ears,  and  he  scratched  her  cheeks  until 
she  fairly  yelled.  He  knockt  her  down  and  he 
stampt  on  her  shameful.  She  bellowed  like  a  bull, 
she  bleated  like  a  calf,  she  howled  like  a  hound,  she 
squealed  like  a  pig,  she  shrieked  like  a  rat,  and  then 
he  would  n't  let  her  up.  He  run  a  quarter  stretch 
down  the  low  grounds  of  the  base,  till  he  got  clean 


444  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  you  heard  thunder 
galloping  after  thunder,  through  the  hollows  and 
caves  of  perdition  ;  and  then  he  fox-chased  his  right 
hand  with  his  left  till  he  got  way  out  of  the  treble 
into  the  clouds,  whar  the  notes  was  finer  than  the 
pints  of  cambric  needles,  and  you  could  n't  hear 
nothin'  but  the  shadders  of  'em.  And  tJien  he 
would  n't  let  the  old  planner  go.  He  far'ard  two'd, 
he  crost  over  first  gentleman,  he  chassade  right  and 
left,  back  to  your  places,  he  all  hands'd  aroun',  la- 
dies to  the  right,  promenade  all,  in  and  out,  here 
and  there,  back  and  forth,  up  and  down,  perpetual 
motion,  double  twisted  and  turned  and  tacked, 
and  tangled  into  forty-eleven  thousand  double  bow 
knots. 

By  jinks  !  it  was  a  mixtery.  And  then  he  would 
n't  let  the  old  planner  go.  He  fecht  up  his  right 
wing,  he  fecht  up  his  left  wing,  he  fecht  up  his 
center,  he  fecht  up  his  reserves.  He  fired  by  file, 
he  fired  by  platoons,  by  company,  by  regiments,  and 
by  brigades.  He  opened  his  cannon,  —  siege  guns 
down  thar,  Napoleons  here,  twelve  pounders  yonder, 
—  big  guns,  little  guns,  middle-sized  guns,  round 
shot,  shells,  shrapnels,  grape,  canister,  mortar,  mines 
and  magazines,  every  livin'  battery  and  bomb  a-goin' 
at  the  same  time.  The  house  trembled,  the  lights 
danced,  the  walls  shuk,  the  floor  come  up,  the  ceilin' 
come  down,  the  sky  split,  the  ground  rokt  —  heavens 
and  earth,  creation,  sweet  potatoes,  Moses,  nine- 
pences,  glory,  ten  penny  nails,  Sampson  in  a  'sim- 
mon  tree  roodle-oodle-oodle-oodle  —  ruddle-uddle- 
uddle-uddle  —  raddle-addle-addle-addle  —  riddle-iddle- 
iddle-iddle  —  reedle-eedle-eedle-eedle  —  p-r-r-r-rlank ! 
Bang  !  !  !  lang  !   perlang  !   p-r-r-r-r  !  !  Bang  !  !  ! 


GEORGE    W.   BAGBY.  445 

With  that  bang  !  he  lifted  himself  bodily  into  the 
ar,  and  he  come  down  with  his  knees,  his  ten  fingers,' 
his  ten  toes,  his  elbows,  and  his  nose,  striking  every 
single  solitary  key  on  the  planner  at  the  same  time. 
The  thing  busted  and  went  off  into  seventeen  hun- 
dred and  fifty-seven  thousand  five  hundred  and  forty- 
two  heme-demi-semi  quivers,  and  I  know'd  no  mo'. 

When  I  come  to,  I  were  under  ground  about 
twenty  foot,  in  a  place  they  call  Oyster  Bay,  treatin' 
a  Yankee  that  I  never  laid  eyes  on  before,  and  never 
expect  to  agin.  Day  was  breakin'  by  the  tim.e  I  got 
to  the  St.  Nicholas  Hotel,  and  I  pledge  you  my  word 
I  did  not  know  mv  name.  The  man  asked  me  the 
number  of  my  room,  and  I  told  him,  "  Hot  music  on 
the  half-shell  for  two  !  " 


THE    NEWSPAPER   WITS. 


I. 

GEORGE   D.    PRENTICE. 

Mr.  Prentice  came  to  Kentucky  from  Connecticut  when  he  was 
thirty  years  of  age  ;  but  he  fell  into  the  mood  and  the  ways  of  the 
South  from  the  day  of  his  arrival,  and,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  stood 
as  the  most  representative  of  Southern  writers.  He  was  the  father 
of  the  newspaper  paragraph  ;  and  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  had 
no  rival  in  the  production  of  this  particular  species  of  wit.  He  made 
in  the  journalism  of  his  period  a  very  brilliant  figure,  and  played  al- 
ternately the  part  of  an  amateur  statesman  and  poet.  He  was  in  real- 
ity, and  in  the  true  meaning  of  those  terms,  neither  a  statesman  nor  a 
poet.  But  he  was,  undoubtedly,  a  wit.  Yet  the  very  worst  of  his 
productions  was  the  volume  entitled  "  Prenticiana,"  from  which  I  am, 
by  many  considerations,  forced  to  limit  my  quotations.  In  his  person 
Mr.  Prentice  was  an  interesting  character,  his  marksmanship  being  as 
deadly  as  his  wit.  He  had  a  great  career,  and  his  effigy  in  marble 
graces  the  fagade  v  i  the  noblest  building  in  the  city  where  he  lived 
and  died.  But  his  life  was  in  many  ways  unhappy,  and  his  closing 
days  were  environed  by  domestic  afflictions,  which  made  the  coming 
of  the  end  welcome  to  him.  I  append  an  assortment  of  his  "  fisti- 
cuffs," as  he  called  them.  Though  they  have  lost  the  spontaneity  and 
vitality  which  marked  their  appearance  in  the  columns  of  the  Louis- 
ville "  Journal,"  they  display  his  method,  and  are  models  of  pithy 
English,  saying  often  a  great  deal  in  very  few  words. 

—  The  ''  Advertiser  "  contains  a  long  valedictory 
from  its  late  editor,  Shadrack  Penn.  Shadrack, 
after  a  residence  of  twenty-three  years  as  an  editor 
in  this  city,  goes  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  and  lay 
his  bones  in  St.  Louis.    Well,  he  has  our  best  wishes 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  447 

for  his  prosperity  ;  all  the  ill-will  we  ever  felt  for 
him  passed  out  long  ago  through  our  thumb  and 
fore-fin2:er.  His  lot  hitherto  has  been  a  most  un- 
gentle  one  ;  but  we  trust  his  life  may  prove  akin  to 
the  plant  that  begins  to  blossom  at  the  advanced  age 
of  half  a  century.  May  all  be  well  with  him  here 
and  hereafter  ;  for  we  should  be  sorry  if  a  poor  fel- 
low, whom  we  have  been  torturing  eleven  years  in 
this  world,  were  to  be  handed  over  to  the  d — 1  in  the 
next. 

—  The  New  Haven  "  Herald  "  says  :  ''  Does  the 
editor  of  the  Louisville  'Journal '  suppose  that  he  is 
a  true  Yankee  because  he  was  born  in  New  Eng- 
land ?  If  a  dog  is  born  in  an  oven,  is  he  bi'ead  ?  " 
We  can  tell  the  editor  that  there  are  very  few  dogs, 
whether  born  in  an  oven  or  out  of  it,  but  are  better 
bred  than  he  is. 

—  The  '' Herald"   says  that  Mr.  W.,  in  his 

speech  at  the  court-house  in  that  place,  professed 
to  have  forgotten  the  name  of  the  editor  of  the 
**  Journal."  •  He  would  forget  his  own  if  he  changed 
it  as  often  as  he  does  his  principles. 

—  The  editor  of  the  *' Democrat  "  says  that 

he  does  n't  know  us,  and  never  expects  to  meet 
us  on  this  side  of  the  grave.  We  shall  think  our- 
selves in  particularly  bad  luck  if  we  meet  him  on  the 
otJier  side. 

—  A  friend  of  ours,  who  has  been  hesitating 
whether  to  keep  a  matrimonial  engagement,  informs 
us  that  he  has  at  last  bespoke  his  wedding  suit.  He 
evidently,  on  the  whole,  prefers  a  suit  for  the  fulfill- 
ment of  his  promise  to  a  suit  for  breach  of  it. 

—  A  young  widow  has  estabhshed  a  pistol-gallery 
in  New  Orleans.     Her  qualifications  as  a  teacher  of 


448  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

the  art  of  dueling  are  of  course  undoubted  ;  she  has 
killed  her  num. 

—  A  Canadian  editor  says  that  he  has  "  a  keen 
rapier  to  prick  all  fools  and  knaves."  His  friends 
had  better  take  it  from  him.  He  might  commit 
suicide. 

—  The  disciples  of  one  of  our  modern  schools  of 
authorship  are,  in  one  respect,  like  the  ancient  sibyl. 
They  utter  mysteries  unintelligible  to  themselves, 
leaving  the  world  to  find  out  the  meaning  if  it  can. 

—  We  cannot  think  of  reading  the  whole  of  the 
locofoco  part  of  the  Oregon  debate  in  Congress,  but 
we  have  read  the  speeches  of  long  John  Wentworth 
and  little  Mr.  Douglas,  so  that  we  presume  we  have 
got  "the  long  and  the  short  of  it." 

—  A  correspondent  of  the  "  North  American " 
says  that  old  Mr.  R.,  in  his  own  opinion,  "  sustains 
the  world  upon  his  head."  We  have  often  heard 
that  the  world  stands  tipon  notJiing. 

—  We  see  it  announced  that  Henry  Stone,  an  in- 
fluential Democrat  of  Berks  County,  Pa.,  has  turned 
Whig.  The  Whigs  must  manage  to  turn  the  rest  of 
the  family.     No  Stone  must  be  left  unturned. 

—  A  man  in  our  State,  who  attempted  to  hug  a 
beautiful  young  woman,  Miss  Lemon,  has  sued  her 
for  striking  him  in  the  eye.  Why  should  a  fellow 
squeeze  a  Lemon  unless  he  wants  a  punch  } 

—  "  Husband,  I  must  have  some  change  to-day." 
**  Well,  stay  at  home  and  take  care  of  the  children 
—  that  will  be  change  enough." 

—  "I  have  n't  another  word  to  say,  wife  —  I  never 
dispute  with  fools."  *'  No,  husband,  you  are  very 
sure  to  agree  with  them." 

—  Many  writers  profess  great  exactness  in  punc- 
tuation, who  yet  never  make  a  point. 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  449 

—  Our  neighbor  says  he  has  discovered  a  rat-hole. 
He  had  better  move  into  it  and  save  house-rent. 

—  A  neighboring  editor  says  lie  lately  met  with 
one  of  his  jokes  thirty  years  old.  We  suspect  he 
has  met  with  a  good  many  of  them  much  older  than 
himself. 

—  There  is  a  law  in  Newark  against  "  the  opening 
of  rum-holes."  If  such  a  law  were  enforced  in  Con- 
gress, several  members  would  have  to  keep  their 
mouths  shut. 

—  When  a  young  w^oman  marries  an  old  man  for 
his  money,  he  should  certainly  let  her  have  it  all. 
If  she  takes  him,  that  she  doesn't  want,  he  should 
let  her  have  his  gold  that  she  does. 

—  I\Ien  should  not  think  too  much  of  themselves, 
and  yet  a  man  should  always  be  careful  not  to  forget 
himself  ! 

—  In  the  swamps  of  Louisiana,  a  few  days  ago,  a 
catamount  leaped  from  a  tree  and  attacked  Mr.  Wil- 
liam Kenny.  The  animal  did  n't  prove  a  Kill-kenny 
cat. 

—  The  Cincinnati  representative  in  Congress 
boasts  that  he  can  *'  bring  an  argument  to  a  p'int  as 
quick  as  any  other  man."  He  can  bring  a  quart  to  a 
pint  a  good  deal  quicker. 

—  If  you  woo  the  company  of  the  angels  in  your 
waking  hours,  they  will  be  sure  to  come  to  you  in 
your  sleep. 

—  One  swallow,  to  be  sure,  does  n't  make  a  sum- 
mer ;  but  too  many  swallows  make  a  fall. 

—  Place  confers  no  dignity  upon  such  a  man  as 
the  new  ^Missouri  senator.  Like  a  balloon,  the 
higher  he  rises  the  smaller  he  looks. 

—  A  Democratic  editor  in  Indiana  says  that  he 

29 


450  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

should  hazard  very  little  in  contradicting  our  asser- 
tions.      Very    true  ;    he   would    be    hazarding   the 
merest  trifle  in  the  world  —  nothing  but  Ids  character 
for  vo'acity. 

—  Emerson  tells  us  that  **  the  tongue  should  be  a 
faithful  teacher."  Certainly  the  eye  ought  to  be  — 
it  always  has  a  pupil. 

—  An  author,  ridiculing  the  idea  of  ghosts,  asks 
how  a  dead  man  can  get  into  a  locked  room.  Prob- 
ably with  a  skeleton  key. 

—  The  earth  is  a  tender  and  kind  mother  to  the 
farmer  ;  yet,  at  one  season,  he  harrows  her  bosom, 
and  at  another  plucks  her  ears. 

—  A  Mr.  Archer  has  been  sent  to  the  Ohio 
penitentiary  for  marrying  three  wives.  "  Insatiate 
Archer  !     Could  not  one  suffice  ?  " 


II. 


JOHN    E.    HATCHER. 

Twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago  there  began  to  float  about  in  the 
newspapers  a  succession  of  comic  stories,  sketches,  and  poems  bear- 
ing the  not  very  euphonious  signature,  "  G.  Washington  Bricks." 
The  owner  of  this  nom  de  phime  was  the  late  John  E.  Hatcher.  He 
was  one  of  the  silent  singers  of  the  press,  but  he  lacked  nothing  of 
eminence  except  good  fortune  ;  for  he  was  a  humorist  of  the  very 
first  water,  and  had  he  lived  under  different  conditions  could  not  have 
failed  of  the  celebrity  to  which  his  talents  entitled  him.  Born  not 
merely  poor,  but  far  inland,  with  no  early  advantages,  and  later  in  life 
with  none  except  those  furnished  by  a  rural  newspaper,  ill  health 
overtook  him  before  he  had  divined  his  own  powers.  When  ad- 
vancing years  and  increasing  infirmities  disqualified  Mr.  Prentice  for 
the  scintillating  work  which  had  become  essential  to  the  "Journal," 
Mr.  Hatcher  was  set  to  fill  the  place  thus  made  vatant.  How  well  he 
did  so  the  following  selection  of  paragraphs  will  show.  During  two 
years  before  the  death  of  Mr.  Prentice,  and  for  five  or  six  years  there- 
after, Mr.  Hatcher  poured  out  a  daily  stream  of  this  matter,  laying 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  45  I 

down  his  pencil  only  with  his  life.  His  wit  was  not  so  aggressive  as 
that  of  Mr.  Prentice.  But  he  had  more  humor.  He  died  in  the  prime 
of  life  and  left  behind  him  a  professional  tradition,  which  is  cherished 
by  the  little  circle  of  friends  to  whom  a  charming  jDersonality  and 
many  brilliant  gifts  made  him  very  dear. 


—  Not  long  ago  somebody  started  a  newspaper 
called  "The  Eye  of  Mississippi."  As  might  have 
been  expected,  Mississippi  very  speedily  went  blind 
in  that  eye. 

—  The  first  cockroach  of  the  season  was  seen 
skulking  about  the  editorial  table  last  night  in  search 
of  paste.  He  would  have  had  his  rascally  brains 
knocked  out  and  his  throat  cut  from  ear  to  ear  but 
for  the  fear  that  his  friends  and  acquaintances  would 
come  to  the  funeral  and  forget  to  go  home  again. 

—  A  New  York  letter  says  :  *'  It  just  occurs  to 
me  that  it  is  not  every  man  that  knows  exactly  what 
to  select  as  a  suitable  Christmas  gift  for  his  mother- 
in-law."  We  should  think  that,  if  she  happens  to  be 
visiting  at  his  house,  a  railroad  ticket  to  her  home 
would  be  about  the  first  thing  to  suggest  itself  to 
him. 

—  ''Illinois,"  says  the  Chicago  "Times,  "should 
have  a  public  hangman."  A  public  hangman  !  Why, 
it  would  take  at  least  twenty  to  do  Chicago. 

—  They  now  have  in  New  York  a  Fat  Man's  As- 
sociation, a  Lean  Man's  Association,  and  a  Bald- 
headed  Association.  An  attempt  was  made  the 
other  day  to  start  a  Damphool  Association,  but  it 
was  found  that  the  other  associations  had  absorbed 
all  the  material. 

—  A  Boston  lady  has  four  pimples  on  her  face 
and  offers  $12,000  to  anybody  who  will  remove 
them.     We  are  not  much  of  a  doctor,  but  if  it  were 


452  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LITE. 

not  for  pressing  engagements  which  keep  us  at 
home,  we  should  seize  a  bottle  of  aquafortis,  a  pair 
of  pincers,  and  a  grab  hook,  and  start  for  Boston  by 
the  next  train. 

—  When  the  Columbia  (Tenn.)  **  Journal  "  begins 
a  paragraph  with,  "  Saturday  night  last,  while  that 
good  man  Lazarus'  house  was  crowded  with  custo- 
mers," etc.,  it  reminds  us  of  the  reply  of  a  young 
man  to  a  question  as  to  where  a  certain  barbecue 
was  to  take  place.  "  It  will  take  place,  sir,"  said 
he,  *'  at  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Bill  Johnson's 
spring." 

—  Garters  with  monogram  clasps  are  now  worn 
by  the  pretty  girls.  They  are  rather  a  novelty  yet, 
but  we  hope  to  see  more  of  them. 

—  There  is  said  to  be  a  baby  in  Nashville  that 
was  born  in  a  private  box  at  the  theatre  there  the 
other  night  during  the  performance  of  the  play.  If 
that  infant  had  been  half  as  old  that  night  as  its 
mother  it  would  probably  have  had  sense  enough  to 
stay  at  home. 

—  Detroit  Free  Press  :  ''The  'Capital'  and  the 
*  Courier-Journal '  are  having  hot  words  about  a 
pronoun,  and  are  resorting  to  adjectives  to  sustain 
them."  You  are  mistaken  so  far  as  we  are  con- 
-cerned.  We  m-entioned  that  the  'Capital'  habitu- 
ally uses  the  pronoun  "  ourself,"  and  remarked  that 
nobody  but  a  sporadically  low-down  excontradistinc- 
tive  knock-kneed  and  flagiciously  bandy-legged  and 
freckled -faced  son  of  a  sway-backed  and  moon-eyed 
saw-horse  would  do  it,  but  we  resorted  to  no  adjec- 
tives. 

—  A  correspondent  at  Elizabethtown  asks:  "Is 
it  correct  to  say  'to  the  manner  born,'  or  'to  the 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  453 

manor  born  ? '  "  The  Chicago  "  Tribune  "  has  it  one 
way  and  the  Atlanta  "Constitution"  has  it  the  other. 
We  have  made  arrangements  for  the  editors  of  those 
papers  to  meet  and  fight  it  out  a  little  to  the  rear  of 
Jeffersonville,  and  we  shall  announce  the  decision  of 
the  umpire  as  soon  after  the  funeral  as  possible. 

—  "  In  spite  of  the  many  evidences  produced  by 
Dr.  Schliemann,"  says  an  exchange,  "there  are 
many  scholars  who  doubt  that  he  really  discovered 
the  site  of  ancient  Troy."  Yes,  we  doubted  it  for  a 
long  time  ourselves,  but  when  Dr.  Schliemann  act- 
ually discovered  the  corn  cobs  where  the  Greeks 
fed  their  wooden  horse,  we  felt  that  to  doubt  longer 
would  be  absurd. 

—  "  The  New  York  *  Telegram  '  advises  people 
to  marry  for  love  and  not  for  money."  Good  advice, 
certainly  ;  but  inasmuch  as  you  will  always  be  in 
want  of  money  if  you  miarry  for  love,  and  always  in 
want  of  love  if  you  marry  for  money,  your  safest  way 
is  to  marry  for  a  little  of  both. 

—  Some  of  our  contemporaries  will  persist  in 
speaking  of  us  as  a  ''  rebel."  That  we  fought  for  the 
stars  and  bars  with  a  heroism  of  which  Marathon, 
Leuctra,  and  Thermopylae  never  even  dreamed,  the 
bones  of  half-a-dozen  substitutes  which  lie  bleed- 
ing upon  as  many  "  stormy  heights  and  carnage-cov- 
ered fields  "  bear  testimony  abundant  and  indisput- 
able, and  that  we  suffer  ourselves  still  to  be  called  a 
''rebel"  without  unsheathing  the  avenging  dagger 
and  wading  up  to  our  knees  in  gore,  is  simply  be- 
cause there  is  already  as  much  blood  upon  the  hands 
of  our  substitutes  as  we  can  furnish  soap  to  wash  off 
without  becoming  a  bankrupt.  Nevertheless,  if  this 
thing  is  much  longer  persisted  in,  there  may  come 


454  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

a  time  when  virtue  will  cease  to  be  a  forbearance. 
One  more  taste  of  blood,  this  sanguinary  arm  once 
more  uplifted  to  smite,  and  the  world  will  shudder. 

—  A  New  York  journal  tells  us  that  "  the  Wis- 
consin tornado  is  to  be  scientifically  examined  and 
studied  by  members  of  the  faculty  of  the  University 
of  Wisconsin."  Where  do  they  suppose  that  tor- 
nado is  now,  going  at  the  rate  of  a  hundred  and 
ninety  miles  an  hour  and  with  ten  or  fifteen  days  the 
start }  We  should  as  soon  think  of  examining  and 
studying  scientifically  a  clap  of  thunder  two  weeks 
old. 

—  General  Grant  says  he  won't  call  an  extra  ses- 
sion of  Congress  unless  the  war  in  Europe  is  likely 
to  give  us  trouble.  So  he  is  determined  that  if  the 
gods  bring  us  one  calamity,  he  will  immediately  step 
forward  with  another. 

—  Some  idea  of  the  extreme  scarcity  and  high 
price  of  horses  in  England  in  1485  may  be  formed 
from  the  fact,  that  during  that  year  Richard  III.  of- 
fered his  entire  kingdom  for  one. 

—  For  list  of  candidates  see  first  page.  — Banner. 
For  the  candidates  themselves  —  but  you  need  n't 
trouble  yourself  to  see  them  ;  they  '11  see  you. 

—  An  exchange  says  that  "  the  trouble  with  some 
folks  is  that  unless  they  have  a  great  parade  at  their 
own  funeral,  they  are  sorry  they  died."  Which  is 
very  true.  There  are  people  who,  if  it  were  not  for 
the  sake  of  a  grand  funeral,  would  put  off  dying  to 
the  last  moment. 

—  If  you  would  become  a  millionaire  without 
trouble  of  any  sort,  lend  somebody  one  hundred 
dollars  for  one  hundred  years  at  ten  per  cent.  At 
the  expiration  of  that  time  the  interest  will  amount 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  455 

to  $1,380,900.    If  you  don't  want  to  live  to  collect  the 
debt,  sell  it  to  somebody  that  does. 

—  On  some  of  our  street  railways  a  car  cannot  be 
stopped  after  it  passes  you  without  the  use  of  that 
soul-harrowing  whistle  signal  which  can  be  made 
only  by  a  boy  who  was  born  to  be  hanged. 

—  The  United  States  navy  has  but  one  Admiral 
Poor.  We  wish  we  could  say  it  has  but  one  poor 
admiral. 

—  There  is  a  Servian  prince  in  the  Prussian  army 
whose  name  is  so  long  that  a  company  of  engineers 
has  been  ordered  to  level  down  the  consonants  and 
use  it  as  a  pontoon-bridge. 

—  Atlanta  has  sixty-five  doctors  and  one  hundred 
and  thirty-five  lawyers.  But  for  the  frequent  deaths 
from  starvation  among  them  the  two  professions 
there  would  become  a  little  crowded. 

—  Among  the  bridal  gifts  at  the  marriage  of  a 
strong-minded  young  woman  in  Massachusetts  the 
other  day  was  a  keg  of  butter  with  a  silver  knife  in 
it.  Six  months  hence  the  bridegroom  will  be  very 
sorry  it  was  n't  a  keg  of  powder  with  a  red-hot  nail 
in  it. 

—  It  is  said  that  the  Siamese  Twins  have  n't 
spoken  to  each  other  for  more  than  a  month.  We 
have  been  constantly  expecting  a  falling  out  be- 
tween them  ever  since  we  saw  how  ridiculously  in- 
timate they  were. 

—  The  French  General  Failly,  who  was  killed  by  a 
Prussian  shell,  and  was  afterward  murdered  by  his 
own  soldiers,  and  subsequently  blew  out  his  own 
brains,  is  now  prisoner  at  Mayence  —  whether  dead 
or  alive,  the  telegraph  does  not  inform  us. 

—  A  gentleman  in   Indiana  says,  in  a  note  ac- 


456  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

companying  a  letter  for  publication  in  this  paper: 
"  I  sumtimes  miss-spell  a  word,  and  its  posible  I 
have  spelt  sicafant  rong."  Our  correspondent  is  as- 
sured that  "  sicafant  "  is  all  right,  and  that  the  rest 
of  his  spelling  is  quite  as  good. 

—  "  Five  years  ago,"  said  one  gentleman  to  an- 
other on  the  street  yesterday,  "  I  had  ten  thousand 
dollars  and  did  n't  owe  a  cent ;  to-day  I  owe  the  ten 
thousand  dollars  I  then  had  and  have  n't  got  the  cent 
I  did  n't  owe." 

—  The  Boston  Advertiser  asks,  **  Can  the  West 
manufacture  }  "  Why,  certainly  she  can.  With  the 
raw  material  furnished  her  by  the  East  she  manu- 
factures more  divorces  than  any  other  part  of  the 
world. 

—  Some  papers  are  talking  of  the  "approaching 
Diet  of  the  Powers."  Judging  from  indications,  that 
diet  will  be  blood  pudding. 

—  Have  just  had  a  Prison  Reform  Congress. 
What  we  most  need  is  a  prison  to  reform  Congress. 

—  The  Glasgow  "  Times  "  tells  of  a  man  in  Geor- 
gia, fifty  years  of  age,  who  never  in  his  life  drank  a 
glass  of  whiskey,  smoked  a  pipe,  or  courted  a  woman. 
The  poor  wretch  has  lived  utterly  in  vain.  The  man 
who  has  never  sat  by  a  beautiful  woman,  with  a  pipe 
in  his  mouth,  a  glass  of  whiskey  in  one  hand,  and 
the  whalebones  of  her  palpitating  stays  in  the  other, 
and  "  with  a  lip  unused  to  the  cool  breath  of  reason, 
told  his  love,"  has  no  more  idea  of  Paradise  than  a 
deaf  and  dumb  orang-outang  has  of  metaphysics. 
Even  without  the  pipe  and  whiskey  there  is,  strictly 
speaking,  nothing  disagreeable  about  it. 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  457 


III. 


TEXAS   SIFTINGS. 


Mr.  Street,  the  author  of  "  Texas  Siftings/'  has  introduced  a  new 
quality  to  the  newspaper  humor  of  the  South.  Taking  his  cue  from 
the  paragraphists,  of  whom  Mr.  Prentice  and  Mr.  Hatcher  were  the 
foremost  examples,  he  has  added  action  to  the  wit  of  the  paragraph. 
His  paragraphs  are  comedies.  "  Who,"  says  the  fashionable  clergy. 
man  at  the  wedding,  "  Who  gives  this  woman  away  ?  "  And  a  voice 
down  the  aisle  whispers,  "  I  could,  but  I  won't."  As  this  gentleman 
is  about  issuing  a  volume  of  his  own,  I  shall  limit  my  selections  to  a 
few  of  the  most  current  and  illustrative  of  his  very  striking  and  orig- 
inal quiddities. 

—  "You  miserable  little  ignoramus,  you  have  not 
got  a  particle  of  capacity,"  said  an  Austin  school- 
teacher to  little  Johnny  Fizzletop,  adding,  "  What 
will  become  of  you  when  you  grow  up  }  How  will 
you  earn  your  salt  }  " 

*'  I  dunno  —  teach  school,  I  reckon." 
Whack  !     Whack  !     Whack  I 

—  ''I  am  glad  to  see,  Johnny,  that  you  did  not  try 
to  steal  peaches  out  of  that  wagon.  I  like  a  little 
boy  when  he  is  obedient.  Come  to  my  arms,"  were 
the  words  of  a  proud  Austin  mother. 

'*  I  ain't  no  such  sucker  as  to  steal  peaches  out  of 
a  wagon  with  no  top  to  it  to  keep  the  driver  from 
seeing  a  feller,  and  when  there  is  a  bull  dog  tied  un- 
der the  wagon  besides." 

—  Some  Austin  society  people  are  getting  up  a 
theatrical  performance. 

"  What  sort  of  a  part  of  a  role  are  you  going  to 
give  me  t  "  asked  Hostetter  McGinnis,  of  the  man- 
ager. 


458  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

*'  One  you  will  like.  It  is  just  suited  to  you.  It 
is  that  of  a  reformed  drunkard.  You  will  be  off  the 
stage  so  much,  you  can  go  out  and  get  beer  ten  or 
fifteen  times  during  the  performance." 

—  Mrs.  McCoble,  an  Austin  lady,  rebuked  her 
colored  cook,  Matilda  Snowball,  in  the  following 
words  :  — 

**  When  I  hired  you,  you  said  you  did  n't  have  any 
male  friends,  and  now  I  find  a  man  in  the  kitchen 
half  the  time." 

"  Lor  bress  your  soul,  he  ain't  no  male  friend  of 
mine." 

''  Who  is  he,  then  >  " 

"  He  am  only  my  husband." 

—  '*  Repeat  the  names  of  the  five  senses,"  said  an 
Austin  teacher  to  a  rather  dull  boy. 

"  Hearing,  seeing,  tasting,  smelling." 
**  What  is  the  name  of  the  other  sense  .'*  " 
"  I  forgot." 

The  teacher  said  he  would  refresh  the  boy's  mem- 
ory, and  he  did  so  with  a  strap. 

"  Now,  what  is  the  name  of  the  fifth  sense  ? " 
The  boy  felt  himself  carefully  and  sobbed  :  "  Feel- 
ing, sir,  feeling  ! " 

—  Austin  can  boast  of  the  champion  absent- 
minded  man  of  Texas.  His  name  is  Collard  Mc- 
Carthy. He  is  an  old  man,  and  is  accused  of  trying 
to  invent  a  perpetual  motion  machine.  He  met  an 
old  friend  yesterday,  and  asked  him  in  a  dreamy 
kind  of  a  way,  -^ 

"  I  suppose  you  feel  lonesome,  now  your  brother 
is  dead  and  gone  ?  " 

"  My  brother  is  not  dead.  He  saw  you  and  talked 
with  you  yesterday." 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  459 

"That's  a  fact.  Then  it  couldn't  have  been  him 
who  died.  Ah,  by  the  way,  was  it  you,  then,  who 
died,  and  whose  funeral  I  attended  } " 

—  Colonel  Percy  Yerger  was  complaining  confi- 
dentially to  Hostetter  McGinnis  of  the  frequency 
with  which  his  mother-in-law  paid  him  visits  —  that 
she  came  to  see  him  four  or  five  times  a  year. 

"  My  wife's  mother,"  responded  McGinnis,  *'  has 
visited  me  only  once  in  the  last  five  or  six  years. 
The  last  time  she  came  to  see  me  was  when  I  was 
first  married,  five  years  ago." 

"  Lucky  man  !     When  is  she  going  to  visit  you 


agam  ? 


"  How  can  I  tell  ?  She  has  not  got  through  with 
her  first  visit  yet,  —  but  I  can't  see  where  the  luck 
comes  in." 

—  Little  Johnny,  who  has  been  observing  the  dif- 
ficulty with  which  gorged  mosquitoes  fly,  remarks  to 
his  little  brother  at  the  breakfast  table,  — 

"  If  you  eat  so  much  you  will  die,  Billy,  and  be  an 
angel,  but  you  won't  be  able  to  fly  much." 

—  An  old  citizen  of  Austin,  returning  to  his  home 
from  a  banquet,  meets  another  old  citizen  of  Austin 
coming  from  the  opposite  direction. 

"  Ish  thish  the  Avenue  ?  "  asked  No.  i. 
"  How  should  I  know.     I  wash    at  she    banquet 
myshelf." 

—  "  How  many  hours  are  there  in  a  day  ?  "  asked 
an  Austin  teacher. 

"  I  don't  reckon  there  can  be  more  than  twenty- 
three  hours  in  a  day,  now,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Did  n't  I  tell  you  more  than  forty  times  that 
there  were  twenty-four  hours  in  a  day  ?  " 

*'  Yes,  and  yesterday  I  heard  you  say  that  after 
the  2 1  St  of  June  the  days  would  be  getting  shorter." 


460  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Up  to  the  time  of  our  going  to  press,  the  teacher 
has  not  had  time  to  prepare  his  reply. 

—  '*  Is  this  your  first  appearance  in  a  court  of  jus- 
tice ? "  asked  the  Austin  Recorder  of  a  vagrant. 
"  No,  judge,  it  is  the  last  time  thus  far,  —  how  is  it 
with  yourself }  " 

—  "  Is  dis  heah  letter  all  right,  boss  1  "  asked  an 
Austin  darkey,  handing  the  clerk  a  letter  he  wanted 
to  send  off  in  the  mail.  The  clerk  weighed  the  let- 
ter and  returned  it,  saying  :  **  You  want  to  put  an- 
other stamp  on  it.  It  weighs  too  much."  *'  Ef  I 
puts  another  stamp  on  de  letter,  dat  won't  make  hit 
no  lighter.     Dat 's  gwine  ter  make  it  weigh  more." 

—  "  How  much  rent  do  you  pay  }  "  asked  Gilhoo- 
ly  of  Hostetter  McGinnis.  "  Twenty-five  dollars." 
"  Is  n't  that  a  little  high  for  a  place  like  Austin  }  " 
"  Yes,  it  is  a  little  high  for  summer  ;  but  the  place 
has  a  good  stout  cedar  fence  around  it  and  I  calcu- 
late to  save  forty  dollars  this  winter  in  firewood,  so 
that  will  bring  the  rent  down  to  a  reasonable  fig- 
ure." 

—  ''Which  is  the  first  and  most  important  sac- 
rament } "  asked  an  Austin  Sunday-school  teacher 
of  a  little  girl  in  his  class.  **  Marriage,"  was  the 
prompt  response.  "  Oh,  no  ;  baptism  is  the  first 
and  most  important  sacrament,"  replied  the  teacher. 
''  It  may  be  in  some  families,  but  marriage  always 
comes  first  in  our  family.  We  are  respectable  peo- 
ple, we  are." 

—  A  citizen  who  lately  built  himself  a  residence 
was  the  other  day  showing  a  friend  through  it,  and, 
when  everything  had  been  noticed  and  discussed,  he 
asked,  "  Well,  do  you  see  any  place  where  you  could 
improve  it  ?  "     '*  Yes,  I  noticed  a  bad  error  right  at 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  46 1 

the  start,"  was  the  reply.  Being  asked  to  explain, 
he  continued  :  "  You  have  no  balcony  in  front." 
**  But  I  don't  want  one."  "Well,  perhaps  not  ;  but 
when  you  are  running  for  office  and  the  band  comes 
up  to  serenade  you,  and  the  populace  calls  for  a 
speech,  you  will  either  have  to  go  to  the  roof  or  come 
down  to  the  ground  to  respond.  A  balcony  is  a  sort 
of  middle  ground  —  just  high  enough  to  escape  mak- 
ing pledges,  and  not  too  high  to  promise  all  sorts  of 
reform.  Ought  to  have  a  balcony,  sir  —  regret  it  if 
you  don't." 

—  "  What  makes  you  look  so  solemn  t "  whispered 
a  fashionable  Austin  lady  to  another  in  church,  just 
before  the  services  began. 

"  I  've  got  good  reason  to  be  mad,"  was  the  re- 
sponse. 

"What  is  it.?" 

"  I  dressed  myself  up  in  this  new  suit  I  ordered 
from  New  York  and  went  to  church  to  show  it  off." 

"  Well,  what  of  it }  "  asked  the  other  party. 

"  Our  clock  was  a  whole  hour  fast,  and  I  had  to 
sit  and  sit  in  that  empty  church  without  anybody  to 
see  my  new  clothes,  and  they  are  so  becoming  to  my 
complexion.  There  was  nobody  to  see  them  for  a 
whole  hour,  and  I  might  just  as  well  have  had  no 
clothes  on  at  all.     It  made  me  so  mad  that "  — 

"  The  Lord  is  in  His  Holy  Temple,  let  all  the  earth 
keep  silence  before  Him,"  was  the  opening  remark 
of  the  preacher,  and  the  rest  of  the  conversation  was 
lost  to  the  reporter. 

—  Some  men  begin  to  be  lucky  when  they  are 
mere  boys.  A  twelve  year  old  boy  shot  at  a  cat  in 
Leadville  last  week,  but  fortunately  missed  the  cat 
and  killed  an  influential  citizen  who  was  asleep  in 


462  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LITE. 

the  back  yard  of  a  neighboring  saloon.  As  the  in- 
fluential citizen  happened  to  be  a  delegate  from 
Texas,  who  had  killed  several  men,  and  of  whom 
the  Leadville  police  had  a  holy  horror,  the  joy  of  the 
citizens  was  great.  The  boy  received  an  ovation. 
The  mayor  made  a  neat  little  speech  on  presenting 
him  with  a  gold-mounted  revolver.  As  the  boy  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  be  raised  for  the  ministry,  a  fund 
was  raised  to  send  him  to  a  theological  institute. 
Nothing  has,  however,  been  done  for  the  cat. 

—  Jim  Webster,  an  Austin  colored  voter,  returned 
a  few  days  ago,  after  an  absence  of  a  week  in  the 
country.  After  he  got  back,  he  was  asking  Uncle 
Mose  how  his  negro  acquaintances  were  coming  on, 
and  among  others  what  Tom  Knott,  who  was  cele- 
brated for  his  lack  of  sociability  and  stillness,  was 
doing.  "  Did  n't  yer  meet  a  funeral  as  yer  was 
comin'  into  town  }  "  "  Yes,  I  did.  Uncle  Mose." 
"  Dem  was  Tom  Knott's  obsequious,  dey  was." 
"  Well,  I  mout  had  guessed  hit.  Dat  ain't  de  fust 
time  he  has  passed  me  on  de  street  widout  lettin'  on 
dat  he  knowed  me." 

—  The  Fizzletop  family,  including  Johnny,  were 
invited  to  tea  at  the  McDade  mansion,  on  Austin 
Avenue. 

"  Have  another  cake,  Johnny  }  " 

"  Yes  mam,  I  '11  take  two  or  three,"  he  replied, 
gathering  in  about  seven  cakes  ;  "  ma  told  me  to  eat 
heartily,  so  you  all  would  n't  suspect  we  only  had  one 
meal  a  day  at  home.  Please  gimme  some  more  pre- 
serves and  another  piece  of  chicken  breast." 

—  An  Austin  father  complained  bitterly  of  the 
way  his  children  destroyed  their  clothing.  He  said  : 
"  When  I  was  a  boy  I  only  had  one  suit  of  clothes, 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  463 

and  I  had  to  take  care  of  it.  I  was  only  allowed 
one  pair  of  shoes  a  year  in  those  days."  There  was 
a  pause,  and  then  the  oldest  boy  spoke  up  and  said  : 
"  I  say,  dad,  you  have  a  much  easier  time  of  it  now 
—  you  are  living  with  us." 

—  "  Have  you  got  a  copy  of  *  Milton's  Paradise 
Lost } '  "  asked  Gilhooly  of  Colonel  Schneider  Mc- 
Ginnis,  one  of  our  Austin  aristocrats.  "  What  in 
the  world  is  that.?"  replied  McGinnis.  "It's  a 
book,"  responded  Gilhooly.  *'  No,  sir  ;  I  have  not 
got  such  a  book.  Whenever  I  find  anything  that 's 
lost  I  return  it  to  the  owner.  When  did  Mr.  Milton 
lose  his  book  }  What  reward  is  he  offering  for  its 
return  .-*  " 

—  There  is  an  old  beau  at  Austin,  Colonel  Pret- 
timan,  about  seventy-five  years  old,  but  he  is  as  spry 
as  anybody,  and  is  firmdy  persuaded  he  is  the  hand- 
somest man  in  the  city.  He  was  present  at  a  little 
social  gathering  a  few  nights  ago,  when  the  lecture 
of  Oscar  Wilde  at  San  Antonio  came  up  for  discus- 
sion. It  was  also  stated  that  he  was  a  very  hand- 
some man.  ''  Oscar  is  not  only  handsome,  but  they 
say  he  carries  a  pistol  to  shoot  the  first  man  he  sees 
whom  he  thinks  is  handsomer  than  he  is  himself," 
remarked  one  of  the  party.  ''  Is  that  so  }  "  gasped 
Colonel  Prettiman,  turning  pale  ;  "  and  here  I  have 
gone  and  bought  a  ticket  to  go  over  to  San  Antonio 
to  hear  him  lecture." 

—  An  Austin  couple  named  Beezumbee  were  dis- 
cussing what  name  to  give  their  recently-arrived  in- 
fant. "  Let  us  name  him  after  your  uncle  who  went 
to  Kansas  last  year  for  his  health,"  suggested  the 
mother.  *' I 'd  like  to  name  the  boy  after  him,  but 
how  are  we  to  find  out  what  name  he  goes  by  now  }  " 


464  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

answered  the  author  of  the  child's  existence.  Not 
long  afterward  reliable  information  was  received  that 
the  missing  uncle  did  not  go  by  any  name  at  all. 
He  went  by  a  number  —  No.  283  —  in  the  Kansas 
penitentiary,  and  the  child's  father  naturally  did  not 
care  to  have  the  unconscious  babe  baptized  "  Num- 
ber Two  Hundred  and  Eighty-Three  Beezumbee." 

Gus  De  Smith  called  at  a  very  fashionable  house 
on  Austin  Avenue  a  few  days  ago,  and  acted  so 
queerly  that  when  the  lady's  husband  came  home 
she  said  :  ''  What  is  the  matter  with  young  De 
Smith  ?  He  acted  so  strangely  ;  I  think  there  must 
be  a  screw  loose  about  him  somewhere."  **  Reckon 
not.  I  saw  him  this  morning  and  he  was  tight  all 
over." 

—  They  were  raised  here  in  Austin,  but  she  did 
not  know  much  about  gardening  ;  at  the  same  time, 
she  did  not  care  to  expose  her  ignorance  to  her  hus- 
band. They  had  only  been  married  a  short  time, 
when  he  said  :  "  I  notice  the  asparagus  is  about 
ripe  —  don't  you  want  to  go  out  into  the  garden  and 
get  some  }  "  She  replied  :  "  I  '11  tell  you  what  we 
will  do.  We  will  go  out  together.  You  climb  up 
and  shake  the  tree,  and  I  '11  catch  them  in  my  apron 
as  they  fall." 

—  A  prominent  citizen  of  Austin,  whose  name  we 
suppress  on  account  of  his  family,  wiped  his  eyes  on 
reading  an  account  of  the  Iowa  cyclone,  and  turning 
to  the  barkeeper,  said  :  "  Most  terrible  affair  I  ever 
heard  of.  My  heart  bleeds  for  'em.  Not  a  saloon 
left  standing  in  the  whole  town.  Gimme  another 
sour  toddy." 

—  "  Did  you  bathe  while  you  were  in  Galveston  }  " 
asked  Gilhooly,  of  a  Colonel  Yerger,  who  had  just 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  465 

returned  from  a  visit  to  the  island  city.  "  Oh,  yes, 
I  bathed  several  times."  "  How  did  you  find  the 
water.-*"  "No  trouble  finding  the  water.  The 
street  cars  take  you  right  down  to  it.  You  can't 
miss  the  water.     It's  all  around  the  island." 

—  An  Austin  teacher  was  explaining  fractions  to 
a  rather  dull  boy.  "  Now,  suppose  you  and  your  lit- 
tle sister  were  under  a  tree,  and  you  found  a  peach, 
and  you  wanted  her  to  have  as  much  as  you,  how 
would  you  go  about  it  }  "  "  Shake  down  another 
peach  out  of  the  tree,  and  give  her  the  littlest  one." 

—  A  prominent  granger  from  Onion  Creek  was  in 
Austin,  yesterday.  Desiring  to  obtain  some  relia- 
ble figures  about  the  oat  crop,  we  asked  him  if  he 
could  tell  us  precisely  how  many  acres  he  had  in 
oats  and  how  many  bushels  he  raised  to  the  acre. 
"  I  can't  give  you  the  precise  figures,  but  I  raised  a 
heap,  sold  right  smart,  and  I  've  got  a  powerful  lot 
left." 

—  "  When  did  George  Washington  die  .'*  "  asked  an 
Austin  teacher  of  a  large  boy.  "  Is  he  dead  }  "  was 
the  astonished  reply.  "  Why,  it  is  not  more  than  six 
months  ago  that  they  were  celebrating  his  birthday, 
and  now  he  is  dead.  It's  a  bad  year  on  children. 
I  reckon  his  folks  let  him  eat  something  that  did  n't 
agree  with  him." 

—  A  new  novel  is  announced,  "  The  Colonel's 
Cross."  What  the  mischief  is  the  colonel  cross 
about  ?  Have  the  saloon-keepers  combined  to  deny 
him  credit  ? 

—  No  Fourth  of  July  orator  should  attempt  to 
speak  until  he  has  tested  his  lungs  with  a  lung 
tester.  A  lawyer  tested  his  lungs  on  one  in  New 
York,  and  died  in  five  minutes. 

30 


466  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

—  Some  traits  run  in  families.  Shakespeare's 
father,  being  iUiterate,  made  his  mark.  So  did 
Shakespeare. 

IV. 

ALBERT  ROBERTS. 

"John  Happy,"  a  pseudonym  which  is  affectionately  familiar  to 
Southern  people,  stands  for  Albert  Roberts,  who  has  long  ago  fore- 
gone humor  and  turned  his  genius  into  "the  peaceful  and  ennobling 
paths  of  avarice,"  being,  as  a  matter  of  fact.  President  of  the  Ameri- 
can Newspaper  and  Publishing  Company,  of  Nashville,  Tennessee. 
Twenty  years  ago  he  was  the  liveliest  of  the  young  journalists  of  the 
South  ;  and  did  more  to  brighten  the  camp-fires  of  both  armies  dur- 
ing the  great  sectional  war  than  any  of  his  contemporaries.  Un- 
luckily, the  more  humorous  of  his  comicalities  were  destroyed  in  the 
burned-up  files  of  the  "  Chattanooga  Rebel  "  and  the  "  Montgomery 
Mail,"  upon  each  of  which  journals  he  was  engaged  in  an  editorial 
capacity.  The  following  amusing  parody  upon  General  Lytle's  "  An- 
thony and  Cleopatra "  is  characteristic,  and  recalls  a  most  amusing 
aspect  of  the  conflict  on  the  Southern  side. 

"I'M   CONSCRIPTED,  SMITH,  CONSCRIPTED." 

NOT   BY  GEN.   WM.   B.   LYTLE,    "  OR  ANY   OTHER   MAN." 

I  'm  conscripted,  Smith,  conscripted. 

Ebbs  the  subterfuges  fast, 
And  the  sub-enrolling  marshals 

Gather  with  the  evening  blast. 
Let  thine  arms,  O  !  Smith,  support  me, 

Hush  your  gab  and  close  your  ear, 
Conscript-grabbers  close  upon  you, 

Hunting  for  you  —  far  and  near. 


Though  my  scarred,  rheumatic  "  trotters 

Bear  me  limping  short  no  more, 
And  my  shattered  constitution 

Won't  exempt  me  as  before  ;  — 
Though  the  Provost  Guard  surround  me, 

Prompt  to  do  their  master's  will. 
i  must  to  the  "  front  "  to  perish, 

Die  the  great  conscripted  still. 


n 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  467 

Let  not  the  seizer's  sen-ile  minions 

Mock  the  lion  thus  laid  low  ! 
'T  was  no  fancy  drink  that  "slewed  "  him^ 

Whiskey  straight-out  struck  the  blow. 
Here,  then,  pillowed  on  thy  bosom, 

Ere  he  's  hurried  quite  away, 
,Him,  who,  drunk  with  bust-head  whiskey, 

Madly  threw  himself  away. 

Should  the  base,  plebeian  rabble 

Dare  assail  me  as  I  roam, 
Seek  my  noble  squaw  Octavia, 

Weeping  in  her  widowed  home  ; 
Seek  her,  say  the  guards  have  got  me 

Under  their  protecting  wings, 
Going  to  make  me  join  the  army, 

Where  the  shell  and  Minie  sings. 

I  'm  conscripted,  Smith  —  conscripted  — 

Hark  !  you  hear  that  Grabber's  cry  — 
Run,  old  Smith,  my  boy,  they  '11  catch  you ! 

Take  you  to  the  front  to  die. 
Fare  thee  well !  I  go  to  battle, 

There  to  die,  decay,  and  swell, 
Lockhart  and  Dick  Taylor  guard  thee, 

Sweet  Octavia  —  Smith  !  — farewell ! 


"CHIP'S"   NURSES. 

Suffering  little  children  to  come  unto  the  under- 
signed,  —  for  of  such  is  the  despotism  of  marriage, 
—  a  '*  daughter,  passing  fair,"  hath  recently  blessed 
the  house  of  Happy  and  shed  a  profusion  of  felici- 
tous sunshine  about  his  hearthstone.  She  was 
eleven  months  old  yesterday  ;  weighs  twenty-two 
pounds  avoirdupois  in  her  stocking  feet ;  is  consid- 
ered by  her  godmothers  to  be  a  miniature  fac- 
simile  of  the  subscriber,  and,  being  a  literal  "  chip 
off  the  old  block,"  we  call  her  "  Chip"  for  short,  and 
for  the  sake  of  euphony. 


468  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

Chip's  adventures  in  search  of  a  nurse  would 
make  up  a  volume  of  romantic  perplexities,  to  the 
truth  of  which  the  fiction  of  *'  Japhet  in  search  of  a 
Father"  would  be  but  a  complete  stranger.  It  was 
unfortunate  for  Chip  that  she  happened  to  step  into 
existence  when  the  African  theory  of  earning  the 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  the  brow  meant  to  pick  up 
an  occasional  crumb  wherever  it  happened  to  be  ly- 
ing round  loose,  and  performing  the  least  amount 
of  service  for  the  largest  amount  of  wages,  at  semi- 
occasional  periods. 

The  demoralized  condition  of  the  labor  system 
of  this  unreconstructed  "Paradise  Regained"  is  no- 
where so  manifest  as  among  the  she-Africans. 
Worthless  as  the  "  man-and-brother  "  may  have  be- 
come, the  **  woman-and-sister  "  is  the  very  climax 
of  utter  and  absurd  worthlessness.  There  seems  to 
be  a  generous  spirit  of  emulation  among  the  she  ne- 
groes to  see  which  of  them  can  procure  the  greatest 
number  of  new  "  situations  "  within  a  year,  and  the 
peculiar  forte  of  the  African  "  fair  seek,"  as  Josh 
Billings  would  phrase  it,  is  a  persistently  frequent 
change  of  base. 

In  her  brief  but  brilliant  career  Chip  has  had  not 
less  than  seven  nurses  to  minister  to  her  infant 
needs  and  threaten  the  dislocation  of  her  neck  by 
spilling  her  out  of  street  windows  whenever  the 
circus-wagon  goes  by.  She  has  had  niggers  of  every 
conceivable  size,  variety,  and  shade  of  complexion, 
and  of  every  species  of  physical  deformity  known  to 
the  science  of  anatomy.  These  have  been  hump- 
backed niggers  and  sway-backed,  blind  niggers  and 
halt,  deaf  niggers  and  dumb,  to  attend  her  along 
the  paths  of  perilous  babyhood. 


NEWSPAPER   WITS.  46g 

Her  first  **  maid  of  honor "  was  an  African  ref- 
ugee, secured  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  Dixie  and 
brought  back  to  Brownlow  fairy-land  upon  the  fan- 
cied return  of  peace.  This  nurse  was  made  a  re- 
luctant exile  from  her  native  heath  at  the  evacuation 
of  Nashville,  and  was  only  too  glad  to  "  accept  the 
situation  in  good  faith  "  which  we  offered  her,  in 
order  to  get  back  home.  The  peculiarity  of  this,  the 
first  of  Chip's  sable  satellites,  was  a  reticence  not  less 
marvelous  than  that  of  General  Grant,  with  a  pas- 
sion for  curling  Chip's  hair  that  was  quite  as  inor- 
dinate as  that  of  Ulysses  for  imported  cigars.  She 
remained  in  our  service  long  enough  to  secure  her 
passage  home  and  then  basely  deserted  us.  Our 
next  acquisition  was  a  species  of  Guinea  nigger  with 
a  cocoa-nut  head  done  up  in  a  rag,  with  hands  as 
horny  as  the  tail  of  a  crocodile,  and  a  pair  of  arms, 
on  the  skin  of  which  a  lucifer  match  could  have  been 
lighted  at  a  single  stroke.  Her  habit  was  to  sleep 
with  Chip  in  her  lap,  and  to  nod  over  the  prostrate 
form  of  our  infant  prodigy,  like  a  Chinese  autom- 
aton, to  the  infinity  amazement  and  consternation 
of  Happiness,  Jr.  When  not  enjoying  this  perpen- 
dicular siesta,  this  nurse  was  gifted  with  a  loquacious- 
ness irrepressible,  and  she  finally  became  so  great 
a  sleeping  and  talking  nuisance  that  we  were  com- 
pelled to  dispense  with  her  valuable  services,  and 
she  returned  to  the  happy  hunting-grounds  of  femi- 
nine Africa,  within  the  precincts  of  classic  Hell's- 
Half-Acre.  The  last  I  saw  of  her  was  upon  the 
summit  of  a  mountain  of  stone  in  the  work-house, 
which  she  was  reducing  to  macadamized  pulveriza- 
tion with  a  penitential  hc^mmer. 

Disgusted  with   the  African  population,  we  con- 


470  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

eluded  to  experiment  with  the  Anglo-Saxon  race, 
and  accordingly  advertised  for  a  white  nurse.  Out 
of  a  multitude  of  very  unprepossessing  material  we 
selected  a  feminine  morceaic  rejoicing  in  the  name 
of  Mrs.  Berkley  and  a  preponderance  of  flesh  ag- 
gregating two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  gross.  It 
took  about  a  week  to  get  Berkley  and  her  bedclothes 
transported  beneath  the  sheltering  aegis  of  *'  Rural 
Felicity  Cottage,"  and  it  only  took  half  an  hour  to 
banish  her  forever  from  that  rustic  Paradise.  A 
proposition  on  the  part  of  Berkley,  of  the  one  part, 
to  cure  the  baby  of  colic  by  holding  it  suspended  by 
the  heels,  with  its  head  down,  so  horrified  the  ma- 
ternal solicitude  of  Mrs.  H.,  of  the  other  part,  that 
Berkley  became  immediately  unpopular  ;  but  the 
discovery  on  the  part  of  the  undersigned,  on  the  one 
part,  of  sundry  fragments  of  long  sandy  hair  of  the 
complexion  of  Berkley's,  on  the  other  part,  in  the 
Hair-brush  of  the  subscriber,  at  once  sealed  the  des- 
tiny of  Berkley,  and  she  was  paid  off  and  politely 
required  to  let  the  earth  hide  her. 

Berkley  was  succeeded  by  a  mahogany  complex- 
ioned  nurse,  who,  having  a  disposition  to  giggle 
aloud,  and  shout,  and  make  facial  contortions  to 
frighten  her  infant  charge,  would  have  done  well 
enouo-h  until  a  better  could  be  substituted.  But 
**  her  mother  wanted  her,"  she  said,  to  ''  go  to 
skewl."  Her  successor,  secured  after  a  long  and 
piinful  search,  only  remained  with  us  a  couple  of 
hours.  Remarking,  incidentally,  to  another  of  the 
domestic  retainers  of  the  undersigned,  as  she  was 
building  a  fire,  *' of  this  warn't  ad — d  lonely  ole 
hole,"  it  was  considered  that  such  a  familiarity  with 
the  choicest  expletives  of  our  chaste  language  fitted 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  47 1 

her,  perhaps,  for  a  livelier  sphere.  She  was,  there- 
fore, invited  to  'Might  out,"  or  else  she  would  be 
thrown  out  of  a  two-story  window  by  the  scruff  of 
the  neck  or  the  seat  of  her  pantaloons  —  if  she  had 
any. 

The  next  nurse  was  as  black  as  four  black  cats  on 
the  rim  of  a  well  in  the  darkest  midnight  of  the 
season.  She  was  so  dark  that  the  baby  could  n't  see 
her  even  by  the  firelight,  except  when  she  opened 
her  mouth,  and  then  her  teeth  were  so  white,  that 
her  smile  was  Hke  the  fitful  flash  of  the  fire-fly's 
phosphorescent  tail,  or  a  gleam  of  heat  lightning 
on  a  ground  of  storm  clouds.  This  African  rarely 
articulated,  and  it  was  some  time  before  we  dis- 
covered that  she  possessed  the  gift  of  speech.  One 
stereotyped  ejaculation  of  hers  for  entertaining  Chip 
was  the  simple  but  startling  interrogatory  of  — 
"  Where  's  the  chickey  .-^  "  Chip  has  been  in  a  won- 
dering state  of  expectancy  ever  since,  as  if  she  ex- 
pected *'  the  chickey  "  to  start  up  out  of  the  Swiss 
clock,  or  flap  its  wings  from  the  glowing  embers  of 
the  hearthstone. 

Our  "  business  relations  "  with  this  reticent  Cleo- 
patra were  incontinently  severed  by  reason  of  the 
fact  that  she  set  Chip  on  a  chair  and  forgot  where 
she  placed  her,  until  the  latter  attracted  her  atten- 
tion, by  striking  the  floor  with  her  infant  head,  in 
a  foolish  effort  to  throw  a  double  somersault  from 
her  dangerous  perch.  The  entire  household  was,  of 
course,  aroused  by  this  fall  and  the  instantly  suc- 
ceeding lamentations  of  Chip,  whose  nurse  in  an  ex- 
planatory sort  of  way  exclaimed,  ''  Godlemity  bres 
de  chile  —  she  done  frow  hersef  outen  de  cheer," 
then  snatching  her  up,  with  affected  sympathy,  to 


4/2  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

appease,  by  that  eloquent  "  pantomimicry  "  our 
paternal  and  maternal  indignation,  she  soothingly 
screamed  again  and  again,  "  wher's  de  chicky  f  "  We 
lost  confidence  in  her  from  that  hour. 

"  Cassionicuss,"  we  said  to  her,  "■  no  more  be 
officeress  of  our'n  !  —  avaunt  and  quit  these  pres- 
ents." It  is  needless  to  add  that  she  "  avaunted,"  as 
soon  as  she  received  her  perdiem,  and  the  monotone 
of  *'wher's  de  chicky"  no  longer  echoes  in  "the 
home  of  the  brave  and  the  house  of  the  free ! " 

Our  last  experiment  in  search  of  a  nurse  is  "the 
present  incumbent,"  a  little  nigger  about  as  big  as  a 
piece  of  charcoal  —  romantically  called  "  Lizziney," 
and  as  deaf  as  a  door-knob.  The  only  remark  that 
she  has  ever  addressed  to  "Chip"  is  a  monitory 
"  Psh  —  sh!"  and,  to  the  author  of  Chip's  being: 
^^  She  's  crorled  from  the  hath  to  the  dinin-ivom 
dore  !  " 


Speaking  of  the  Athenaeum,  what  do  you  think  of 
the  following  lines  }  Very  graceful,  certainly.  They 
appeared  in  the  Atlanta  "  Confederacy's  "  descrip- 
tion of  the  tableaux  of  "  The  Judgment  of  Paris," 
given  at  the  first  entertainment  by  some  of  the  ladies 
of  the  city  for  the  benefit  of  Morgan's  command  :  — 


Ah  !  stars  and  moon  —  refuse  to  shine  ; 

The  gods  themselves  must  see  it  is 
In  vain  to  eclipse,  with  light  of  thine, 

These  mythologic  deities, 
Though  Paris,  with  a  god-like  air 

May  spurn  the  earth  he  trod  as  his  — 
Yet  still  we  deem  no  "  judgment "  fair 

Between  such  rival  goddesses. 


NEWSPAPER    WITS.  d^'Jl 

II. 

Sure  Juno,  with  her  regal  brow 

And  coronet  begemming  it, 
Wore  charm  that  should  have  won  —  we  trow  — 

Yet  Paris  knelt,  condemning  it. 
The  knave  !  to  pass  such  beauties  by  — 

Perhaps  his  passion  blinded  him ; 
Or  else,  the  light  in  Venus'  eye  ; 

Of  other  charms  reminded  him. 

III. 

And  Pallas,  with  her  glittering  helm 

And  wealth  of  jetty  tresses  too  ; 
The  fairest  in  th'  Olympian  realm 

To  pay  a  god's  addresses  to. 
Ah  !    Paris,  fickle-minded  cove  ! 

Thus  slightingly  to  serve  her  so  ! 
Yet,  by  the  teeming  brain  of  Jove  — 

She  looked  the  true  Minerva,  though. 

IV. 

But  see,  upon  his  bended  knee, 

The  shepherd  judge  between  us  is  ; 
Aside  —  and  yet  between  the  three. 

And  near  to  where  sweet  Venus  is  ! 
Aloft  is  poised  the  golden  prize  — 

An  arm  is  poised  to  receive  it,  too  — » 
The  smile  that  beams  in  Venus'  eyes 

Tells  whom  he  means  to  give  it  to. 


A  TRIO   OF  OLD   ODDITIES. 


1  CANNOT  better  close  these  examples  of  what  I  may  call  the  news- 
paper oddities  of  the  South,  than  by  recalling  a  trio  of  the  most  nota- 
ble stories  which  have  gone  the  rounds  of  the  American  press  the  last 
forty  years,  which  yet  linger  on  the  stage,  appearing  and  reappearing 
at  intervals,  as  if  to  take  a  fresh  lease  of  life,  and  which  are  thor- 
oughly characteristic,  in  tone,  color,  and  action,  of  the  era  to  which 
"we  owe  Simon  Suggs  and  Sut  Lovingood.  "  Cousin  Sally  Billiard  " 
antedates  ^'Georgia  Scenes,"  having  been  contributed  somewhere  in 
ithe  thirties  to  a  North  Carolina  newspaper,  by  Hamilton  C.  Jones,  a 
lawyer  of  eminence  in  his  day  and  generation.  "  Guilty  —  but  Drunk," 
might  be  a  leaf  directly  out  of  "  Georgia  Scenes."  It  is  labelled  by 
Burton,  1840,  and  credited  to  a  Colonel  Bradbury,  in  all  likelihood  a 
sobriquet.  "  A  Harp  of  a  Thousand  Strings  "  appeared,  originally, 
in  1855,  in  a  newspaper  of  Brandon,  Mississippi.  Its  authorship  has 
ibeen  variously  ascribed  ;  but,  if  it  has  ever  been  definitely  ascer- 
tained, or  if  any  one  has  claimed  its  paternity,  I  am  ignorant  of  the 
fact.     I  give  the  stories  va  the  order  of  their  birth,  beginning  with 

I. 

COUSIN   SALLY   BILLIARD. 
SCENE:   A  COURT  OF  JUSTICE  IN  NORTH  CAROLINA. 

A  BEARDLESS  disciplc  of  Thcmis  rises,  and  thus 
addresses  the  Court :  "  May  it  please  your  Worships, 
and  you.  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  since  it  has  been 
my  fortune  (good  or  bad,  I  will  not  say)  to  exercise 
myself  in  legal  disquisitions,  it  has  never  befallen 
me  to  be  obliged  to  prosecute  so  direful,  marked, 
and  malicious  an  assault  —  a  more  willful,  violent, 
dangerous  battery  —  and  finally,  a  more  diabolical 


A    TRIO   OF  OLD   ODDITIES.  475 

breach  of  the  peace,  has  seldom  happened  in  a  civ- 
iHzed  country  ;  and  I  dare  say  it  has  seldom  been 
your  duty  to  pass  upon  one  so  shocking  to  benevo- 
lent feelings,  as  this  which  took  place  over  at  Cap- 
tain Rice's,  in  this  county.  But  you  will  hear  from 
the  witnesses. 

The  witnesses  being  sworn,  two  or  three  were  ex- 
amined and  deposed.  One  said  that  he  heard  the 
noise,  and  did  not  see  the  fight  ;  another  that  he 
seen  the  row,  but  did  n't  know  who  struck  first  ; 
and  a  third,  that  he  was  very  drunk,  and  couldn't 
say  much  about  the  skrimmage. 

Lawyer  Chops.  I  am  sorry,  gentlemen,  to  have  oc- 
cupied your  time  with  the  stupidity  of  the  witnesses 
examined.  It  arises,  gentlemen,  altogether  from 
misapprehension  on  my  part.  Had  I  known,  as  I 
now  do,  that  I  had  a  witness  in  attendance  who  was 
well  acquainted  with  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  and  who  was  able  to  make  himself  clearly  un- 
derstood by  the  court  and  jury,  I  should  not  so  long 
have  trespassed  upon  your  time  and  patience.  Come 
forward,  Mr.  Harris,  and  be  sworn. 

So  forward  comes  the  witness,  a  fat,  shuffy  old 
man,  a  '*  leetle  "  corned,  and  took  his  oath  with  an 
air. 

Chops.  Harris,  we  wish  you  to  tell  all  about  the 
riot  that  happened  the  other  day  at  Captain  Rice's  ; 
and  as  a  good  deal  of  time  has  already  been  wasted 
in  circumlocution,  we  wish  you  to  be  compendious, 
and  at  the  same  time  as  explicit,  as  possible. 

Harris.  Adzactly  (giving  the  lawyer  a  knowing 
wink,  and  at  the  same  time  clearing  his  throat). 
Captain  Rice,  he  gin  a  treat,  and  cousin  Sally  Bil- 
liard, she  came  over  to  our  house  and  axed  me  if  ni); 


1^ 


476  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

wife  she  mout  n't  go  ?  I  told  cousin  Sally  Billiard 
that  my  wife  was  poorly,  being  as  how  she  had  a 
touch  of  the  rheumatics  in  the  hip,  and  the  big 
swamp  was  in  the  road  and  the  big  swamp  was  up, 
for  there  had  been  a  heap  of  rain  lately  ;  but  how- 
somever,  as  it  was  she,  cousin  Sally  Billiard,  my  wife 
she  mout  go.  Well,  cousin  Sally  Billiard  then  axed 
me  if  Mose  he  mout  n't  go  ?  I  told  cousin  Sally  Bil- 
liard that  he  was  the  foreman  of  the  crap,  and  the 
crap  was  smartly  in  the  grass  ;  but  howsomever  as 
it  was  she,  cousin  Sally  Billiard,  Mose  he  mout 
go  — 

Chops.  In  the  name  of  common  sense,  Mr.  Har- 
ris, what  do  you  mean  by  this  rigmarole  ? 

Witness.  Captain  Rice,  he  gin  a  treat,  and  cousin 
Sally  Billiard  she  came  over  to  our  house  and  axed 
me  if  my  wife  she  mout  n't  go  .'*  I  told  cousin  Sally 
Bilhard  — 

Chops.  Stop,  sir,  if  you  please  ;  we  don't  want  to 
hear  anything  about  your  cousin  Sally  Billiard  and 
your  wife.     Tell  us  about  the  fight  at  Rice's. 

Witness.    Well,  I  will,  sir,  if  you  will  let  me. 

Chops.    Well,  sir,  go  on. 

Witness.  Well,  sir,  Captain  Rice  he  gin  a  treat, 
and  cousin  Sally  Billiard  she  came  over  to  our  house 
and  axed  me  if  my  wife  she  mout  n't  go  — 

Chops.  There  it  is  again.  Witness,  please  to 
stop. 

Witness.    Well,  sir,  what  do  you  want  } 

Chops.  We  want  to  know  about  the  fight,  and  you 
must  not  proceed  in  this  impertinent  story.  Bo  you 
know  anything  about  the  matter  before  the  court  .'* 

Witness.    To  be  sure  I  do. 

Chops.    Well,  go  on  and  tell  it,  and  nothing  else. 


A    TRIO   OF  OLD   ODDITIES.  ^yy 

Witness.    Well,  Captain  Rice,  he  gin  a  treat,  — 

Chops.  This  is  intolerable.  May  it  please  the 
Court,  I  move  that  this  witness  be  committed  for  a 
contempt  ;  he  seems  to  be  trifling  with  this  court. 

Court,  Witness,  you  are  now  before  a  court  of 
justice,  and  unless  you  behave  yourself  in  a  more 
becoming  manner,  you  will  be  sent  to  jail  ;  so  begin 
and  tell  what  you  know  about  the  fight  at  Captain 
Rice's. 

IVit/iess,  [alarmed.]  Well,  gentlemen,  Captain 
Rice,  he  gin  a  treat,  and  cousin  Sally  Billiard  — 

Chops.  I  hope  the  witness  may  be  ordered  into 
custody. 

Court  [after  deliberating.]  Mr.  Attorney,  the 
Court  is  of  the  opinion  that  we  may  save  time  by 
telling  witness  to  go  on  in  his  own  way.  Proceed, 
Mr.  Harris,  with  your  story,  but  stick  to  the  point. 

Witness.  Yes,  gentlemen.  Well,  Captain  Rice, 
he  gin  a  treat,  and  cousin  Sally  Billiard  she  came 
over  to  our  house  and  asked  me  if  my  wife  she  mout 
go  }  I  told  cousin  Sally  Billiard  that  my  wife  she  was 
poorly,  being  as  how  she  had  the  rheumatics  in  the 
hip,  and  the  big  swamp  was  up  ;  but  hovvsomever,  as 
it  was  she,  cousin  Sally  Billiard,  my  wife  she  mout 
go.  Well,  cousin  Sally  Billiard  then  axed  me  if 
Mose  he  mout  n't  go.  I  told  cousin  Sally  Billiard 
as  how  Mose  —  he  was  the  foreman  of  the  crap,  and 
the  crap  was  smartly  in  the  grass  —  but  howsomever, 
as  it  was  she,  cousin  Sally  Billiard,  Mose  he  mout 
go.  So  they  goes  on  together,  Mose,  my  wife,  and 
cousin  Sally  Billiard,  and  they  come  to  the  big 
swamp,  and  it  was  up,  as  I  was  telling  you  ;  but  be- 
ing as  how  there  was  a  log  across  the  big  swamp, 
cousin  Sally  Billiard  and  Mose,  like  genteel  folks, 


4/8  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

they  walked  the  log ;  but  my  wife,  like  a  darned  fool, 
hoisted  her  coats  and  waded  through.  And  that's 
all  I  kjiow  about  t lie  fight. 

II. 

GUILTY  —  BUT    DRUNK. 

Many  years  ago,  while  the  State  of  Georgia  was 
still  in  its  infancy,  an  eccentric  creature  named 
Brown  was  one  of  its  circuit  judges.  He  was  a 
man  of  ability,  of  inflexible  integrity,  and  beloved 
and  respected  by  all  the  legal  profession.  But  he 
had  one  fault.  His  social  qualities  would  lead  him, 
despite  his  judgment,  into  occasional  excesses.  In 
traveling  the  circuit,  it  was  his  habit,  the  night  be- 
fore opening  court,  to  get  "comfortably  corned." 
If  he  could  n't  succeed  while  operating  upon  his  own 
hook,  the  members  of  the  bar  would  generally  turn 
in  and  help  him. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  the  year  ;  taking  his  wife 
in  the  old-fashioned  carryall,  the  Judge  journeyed 
some  forty  miles,  and  reached  a  village  where  court 
was  to  be  opened  the  next  day.  He  took  quarters 
with  a  relation  of  his  better  half,  by  whom  the  pres- 
ence of  an  official  dignitary  was  considered  a  high 
honor.  After  supper,  he  strolled  over  to  the  only 
tavern  in  the  town,  where  he  found  many  oid  friends, 
called  to  the  place,  like  himself,  on  important  pro- 
fessional business,  and  who  were  properly  glad  to 
meet  him. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  Judge,  " 't  is  quite  a  long 
time  since  we  have  enjoyed  a  glass  together.  Let 
us  take  a  drink  all  round.  Of  course,  Sterritt  (ad- 
dressing the  landlord),  you  have  better  liquor  than 


A    TRIO   OF  OLD   ODDITIES.  479 

you  had  the  last  time  we  were  here  ;  the  stuff  you  had 
then  was  not  fit  to  give  a  dog  ! " 

Sterritt,  who  had  charge  of  the  house,  pretended 
that  everything  was  right,  and  so  they  went  to 
work.  It  is  unnecessary  to  enlarge  upon  a  drinking 
bout  in  a  country  tavern  ;  it  will  quite  answer  our 
purpose  to  state  that  somewhere  in  the  region  of 
midnight  the  Judge  wended  his  very  devious  way 
towards  his  temporary  home.  About  the  time  he 
was  leaving,  however,  some  younger  barristers,  fond 
of  a  "  practical,"  and  not  much  afraid  of  the  bench, 
transferred  all  the  silver  spoons  of  Sterritt  to  the 
Judge's  coat  pocket. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  Monday  morning  that  the 
Judge  rose.  Having  indulged  in  the  process  of  ab- 
lution and  abstersion,  and  partaken  of  a  cheerful  and 
refreshing  breakfast,  he  went  to  his  room  to  prepare 
himself  for  the  duties  of  the  day. 

"Well,  Polly,"  said  he  to  his  wife,  "I  feel  much 
better  than  I  expected  to  feel  after  that  frolic  of  last 
night." 

"  Ah,  Judge,"  said  she,  reproachfully,  "  you  are 
getting  too  old  ;  you  ought  to  teave  off  that  busi- 
ness." 

"Ah,  Polly  !  what  's  the  use  of  talking  ?  " 

It  was  at  this  precise  instant  that  the  Judge,  hav- 
ing put  on  his  overcoat,  was  proceeding,  according 
to  his  custom,  to  give  his  wife  a  parting  kiss,  that 
he  happened,  in  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
to  lay  hold  of  Sterritt's  spoons.  He  jerked  them  out 
With  an  expression  of  horror  he  exclaimed,  — 

"  My  God  !  Polly  !  " 

"  What  on  earth  's  the  matter,  Judge  t  " 

**  Just  look  at  these  spoons  !  " 


480  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

*'  Dear  me,  where  d'ye  get  them  ? " 
"  Get  them  ?  Don't  you  see  the  initials  on  them  ? " 
—  extending  them  towards  her  —  ''  I  stole  them  I  " 
"  Stole  them,  Judge  ?  " 
**Yes,  stole  them  !" 

"  My  dear   husband,    it   can't    be   possible !  from 
whom  ?  " 

"  From    Sterritt,    over    there  ;    his    name    is    on 
them." 

"  Good  heavens  !  how  could  it  happen  ? " 

**  I  know  very  well,  Polly  —  I  was  very  arunk 
when  I  came  home,  wasn't  I  ? " 

"  Why,  Judge,  you  know  your  old  habit  when  you 
get  among  those  lawyers." 

"■  But  was  I  very  drunk  ? " 

*'  Yes,  yoiL  was." 

"  Was  I  remarkably  drunk  when  I  got  home,  Mrs. 
Brown  .?  " 

"  Yes,  Judge,  drunk  as  a  fool,  and  forty  times  as 
stupid." 

*'  I  thought  so,"  said  the  Judge,  dropping  into  a 
chair  in  extreme  despondency.  "  I  knew  it  would 
come  to  that,  at  last.  I  have  always  thought  that 
something  bad  would  happen  to  me  :  that  I  should 
do  something  very  wrong  ;  kill  somebody  in  a  mo- 
ment of  passion,  perhaps  ;  but  I  never  imagined 
that  I  could  be  mean  enough  to  be  guilty  of  delib- 
erate larceny  ! " 

"  But,  there  may  be  some  mistake,  Judge  } " 

"  No  mistake,  Polly.  I  know  very  well  how  it  all 
came  about.  That  fellow,  Sterritt,  keeps  the  mean- 
est sort  of  liquor,  and  always  did ;  liquor  mean 
enough  to  make  a  man  do  any  sort  of  a  mean  thing. 
I  have  always  said  it  was  mean  enough  to  make  a 


A    TRIO   OF  OLD   ODDITIES.  48 1 

man  steal,  and  now  I  have  a  practical  illustration  of 
the  fact !  "  and  the  poor  old  man  burst  into  tears. 

"  Don't  be  a  child,"  said  his  wife,  wiping  away  the 
tears.  '*  Go  like  a  man,  over  to  Sterritt,  tell  him  it 
was  a  little  bit  of  a  frolic.  Pass  it  off  as  a  joke; 
go  and  open  court,  and  nobody  will  ever  think  of  it 
again." 

A  little  of  the  soothing  system  operated  upon  the 
Judge,  as  such  things  usually  do  ;  his  extreme  mor- 
tification was  finally  subdued,  and  over  to  Sterritt's 
he  went  with  a  tolerable  face.  Of  course,  he  had 
but  little  difficulty  in  settling  with  him  ;  for  aside 
from  the  fact  that  the  Judge's  integrity  was  unques- 
tionable, Sterritt  had  an  inkling  of  the  joke  that  had 
been  played.  The  Judge  took  his  seat  in  court  ; 
but  it  was  observed  that  he  was  subdued  and  mel- 
ancholy, and  that  his  mind  frequently  wandered 
from  the  business  before  him.  There  was  a  lack  of 
the  sense  and  intelligence  that  usually  characterized 
his  proceedings. 

Several  days  passed  and  the  business  of  the  court 
was  drawing  towards  a  close,  when  one  morning 
a  tough  citizen  was  arraigned  on  a  charge  of  steal- 
ing. After  the  clerk  had  read  the  indictment  to 
him,  he  put  the  question  :  — 

''  Guilty,  or  not  guilty  }  " 

*'  Guilty  —  bitt  dricnk^'  answered  the  prisoner. 

"  What  's  that  plea }  "  exclaimed  the  Judge,  who 
was  half  dozing  on  the  bench. 

*'  He  pleads  guilty,  but  says  he  was  drunk,"  re- 
plied the  clerk. 

"What  's  the  charge  against  the  man  1 " 

"  He  is  indicted  for  grand  larceny." 

"  What  's  the  case  >  " 
31 


482  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  May  it  please  your  honor,"  said  the  prosecuting 
attorney,  "  the  man  is  regularly  indicted  for  stealing 
a  large  sum  from  the  Columbus  Hotel." 

"  He  is,  hey  ?  and  he  pleads  "  — 

"He  pleads  guilty,  but  drunk  !  " 

The  Judge  was  now  fully  aroused. 

"■  Guilty,  but  driuik  !  That  is  a  most  extraordi- 
nary plea.  Young  man,  you  are  certain  you  were 
drunk.-* " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

*'  Where  did  you  get  your  liquor  ? " 

^' At  Sterritt's." 

"  Did  get  none  nowhere  else  ?  " 

"  Not  a  drop,  sir." 

''You  got  drunk  on  his  liquor,  and  afterwards 
stole  his  money  t  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Mr.  Prosecutor,"  said  the  Judge,  "do  me  the 
favor  to  enter  a  nolle  prosequi  in  that  man's  case, 
That  liquor  of  Sterritt's  is  mean  enough  to  make  a 
man  do  anything  dirty.  The  court  got  drunk  on  it 
the  other  day  and  stole  all  of  Stcrritfs  spoons  !  Release 
the  prisoner,  Mr.  Sheriff  ;  I  adjourn  the  court." 

HI. 

"the  harp  of  a  thousand   strings." 

"  I  may  say  to  yo,  my  brethering,  that  I  am  not  an 
edecated  man,  an  I  am  not  one  o'  them  that  beleeves 
edecation  is  necessary  for  a  gospel  minister,  fur  I 
beleeve  the  Lord  edecates  his  preachers  jest  as  he 
wants  'em  to  be  edecated  ;  and  although  I  say  it 
that  oughtn't  to  say  it,  yet  in  the  State  of  Indianny, 
whar  I  live,  thar  's  no  man  as  gits  a  bigger  congrega- 
tion nor  what  I  gits. 


A    TRIO  OF  OLD   ODDITIES.  483 

"  Thar  may  be  some  here  to-day,  my  brethering 
as  don't  know  what  persuasion  I  am  uv.  Well,  I 
may  say  to  you,  my  brethering,  that  I  am  a  Hard- 
shell Baptist.  Thar's  some  folks  as  don't  like  the 
Hard-Shell  Baptists,  but  I  'd  rather  hev  a  hard  shell 
as  no  shell  at  all.  You  see  me  here  to-day,  my 
brethering,  dressed  up  in  fine  close  ;  you  mout  think 
I  was  proud,  but  I  am  not  proud,  my  brethering; 
and  although  I  've  been  a  preacher  uv  the  gospel  for 
twenty  years,  and  although  I  'm  capting  uv  that  flat- 
boat  that  lies  at  your  landing,  I  'm  not  proud,  my 
brethering. 

"  I  'm  not  gwine  ter  tell  you  edzackly  whar  my  tex 
may  be  found  :  suffice  it  tu  say,  it 's  in  the  leds  of 
the  Bible,  and  you  '11  find  it  somewhar  'tween  the 
fust  chapter  of  the  book  of  Generation,  and  the  last 
chapter  of  the  book  of  Revolutions,  and  ef  you  '11  go 
and  sarch  the  Scripturs,  you  '11  not  only  find  my  tex 
thar,  but  a  great  many  other  texes  as  will  do  you 
good  to  read  ;  and  my  tex,  when  you  shill  find  it, 
you  shill  find  it  to  read  thus  :  — 

"  '  And  he  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  thousand  strings  —  sperits  of  just 
men  made  perfeck.' 

"  My  tex,  brethren,  leads  me  to  speak  uv  sperits. 
Now  thar's  a  great  many  kind  of  sperits  in  the 
world.  In  the  fust  place,  thar 's  the  sperits  as  som 
folks  call  ghosts  ;  then  thar 's  the  sperits  uv  turpen- 
tUne  ;  and  then  thar 's  the  sperits  as  some  folks  call 
liquor,  and  I  've  got  as  good  artikel  uv  them  kind  uv 
sperits  on  my  flat-boat  as  ever  was  fetched  down  the 
Mississippi  River  ;  but  thar 's  a  great  many  other 
kind  of  sperits,  for  the  tex  says  :  *  He  played  on  a 
harp  uv  a  ///^//-sand  strings  —  sperits  of  just  men 
made  perfeck.* 


484  ODDITIES  IN  SOUTHERN  LIFE. 

"  But  I  '11  tell  you  the  kind  of  sperits  as  is  ment  in 
the  tex  :  it's  fire.  That  is  the  kind  of  sperits  as  is 
ment  in  the  tex,  my  brethering.  Now  thar  's  a  great 
many  kinds  of  fire  in  the  world.  In  the  fust  place, 
thar  's  the  common  sort  uv  fire  you  light  a  segar  or 
pipe  with,  and  then  thar  's  camfire,  fire  before  you  're 
ready  to  fall  back,  and  many  other  kinds  uv  fire,  for 
the  tex  ses  :  *  He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  //^(?^/-sand 
strings  —  sperits  uv  just  men  made  perfeck.' 

"  But  I  '11  tell  you  the  kind  of  fire  as  is  ment  in  the 
tex,  my  brethering  —  it  's  Jicllfirc  I  an'  that 's  the 
kind  of  fire  as  a  great  many  of  you  '11  come  to,  ef  you 
don't  do  better  nor  what  you  have  bin  doin'  —  for 
*  He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  thoii-?>di\'\d  strings  —  sper- 
its of  just  men  made  perfeck.' 

*'  Now,  the  different  sorts  uv  fire  in  the  world  may 
be  likened  unto  the  different  persuasions  in  the 
world.  In  the  first  place,  we  have  the  '  Piscapalions, 
and  they  are  a  high  salin'  and  a  highfalutin'  set,  and 
they  may  be  likened  unto  a  turkey-buzzard,  that  flies 
up  into  the  air,  and  he  goes  up  and  up  till  he  looks 
no  bigger  than  your  finger-nail  and  the  fust  thing 
you  know,  he  cums  down  and  down,  and  is  a  fillin' 
himself  on  the  karkiss  of  a  dead  boss  by  the  side  uv 
the  road  —  and  *  He  played  on  a  harp  uv  a  //2<??/-sand 
strings  —  sperits  of  just  men  made  perfeck.' 

''  And  then,  thar 's  the  Methodis,  and  they  may 
be  likened  unto  the  squirrel,  runnin'  up  into  a  tree, 
for  the  Methodis  believes  in  gwine  on  from  one  de- 
gree uv  grace  to  another,  and  finally  on  to  perfec- 
shun  ;  and  the  squirrel  goes  up  and  up,  and  he  jumps 
from  lim'  to  lim',  and  branch  to  branch,  and  the  fust 
thing  you  know,  he  falls,  and  down  he  comes  ker- 
flummux  ;  and  that 's  like  the  Methodis,  for  they  is 


A    TRIO   OF  OLD    ODDITIES.  485 

allers  fallin'  from  grace,  ah  !  And  '  He  played  on  a 
harp  of  a  //?^//-sand  strings  —  sperits  of  just  men 
made  perfeck.' 

"  And  then,  my  brethering,  thar  's  the  Baptist,  ah  ! 
and  they  hev  bin  Hkened  unto  a  possum  on  a  'sim- 
mon  tree,  and  the  thunders  may  roll,  and  then  the 
earth  may  quake,  but  that  possum  clings  there  still, 
ah  !  And  you  may  shake  one  foot  loose,  and  the 
other's  thar  ;  and  you  may  shake  all  feet  loose,  and 
he  laps  his  tail  around  the  lim',  and  he  chngs  fur- 
ever  —  for  '  He  played  on  a  harp  of  a  tJiou-^dSidi 
strings  —  sperits  of  just  men  make  perfeck.'" 


